Revenge
by secretlife1201
Summary: Set right after Emily finds out her mother is still alive. Daniel still loves her and is dealing with that while Emily discovers something shocking about herself that will change everything. Her vengeful plans might be postponed or become stronger...please read! Hopefully its better than this crappy summary!
1. 1) Pilot

Chapter 1: Pilot

**Emily**

Emily Thorne stares at the screen of Nolan Ross's laptop in disbelief, one hand over her mouth to stop the gasp she can taste on her tongue, and the other clenched up tightly into a fist on her lap. Her eyes bore into the liquid crystal display, the actions going on in it enough to make her heart stop.

Before her are three people with secrets between them. Two of them are now dead.

Standing is a much younger version of both the Grayson's and the white haired man- who, at the time, had hair the color of ash. This scene wouldn't have been all too surprising, considering that Victoria and Conrad Grayson had many secrets with Gordon Murphy, the white haired man. But they weren't discussing the frame and murder of her father, David Clarke, this time. Instead, the words filling the small office they took refuge in now were of her other parent. Emily's mother, Kara Wilkins.

"Ems," Nolan says from beside her, his only voice above a whisper. "She is still alive."

With a quick shift of her hand, she shuts the computer, blocking off what they were saying. Slowly, a sense of fatigue sets over her whole body, causing her to wonder why. This was supposed to be good news in her ears. She wasn't orphaned after all. But why did it leave her feeling so haunted?

Standing up from the couch, Emily pushes out of the room.

"Wait, where are you-"

"I need some air!" She throws over her shoulder, cutting Nolan off. Once she is through the back doors of her beach house, Emily lets the tears release from the ducts of her eyes. Sobs of joy and pain escape her, causing her legs to carry the rest of her body away as quickly as possible. Not even Nolan could see how weak she had become that past few weeks. Emily blamed it on all the change. Her break up with Daniel, Amanda's return…But still, Nolan wouldn't understand, not while she couldn't quite understand it herself.

The wind whipped back into her face as she ran down the boardwalk, her tears streaking across her cheeks and toward her ears from the force. The heels of her feet clicked against the wooden panels beneath her in a way that immediately brought her back fifteen years.

_Unlike now, there was no cold that bit at her bare arms, but instead a warm breeze that brought along the salty smell of the sea. The moon was what her father used to call a toenail, and he pulled her towards the water edge while they both giggled. _

"_Look," He had said, his arm stretching up far above the Hamptons. "It's a shooting star."_

_A ten year old Emily, who carried another name at the time, looked up in time to see a ribbon of light fly across the midnight sky. She jumped up excitedly, wanting this moment to never end._

"_Make a wish, Amanda!" David Clarke cried from beside her. _

_Following his every word, as she always did, Emily shut her eyes tightly and made a wish. "Daddy, I wished-"_

"_No!" He cried, cutting her off. "If you tell me, it won't come true."_

And as soon as the memory came, it was gone again. Just like the shooting star. Her body was no longer moving, and sure enough she had reached the end of the board walk. Her fingers dug into the railing as she her eyes rose up, searching for any sign of the stars. But none were shining tonight. The universe was stripped raw.

Panting from the run, Emily wonders about her mother. Where she was, how she was, who she was with. If she ever thought about her daughter. Suddenly, she shakes violently from the cold and wraps her arms around her small frame.

A queasy feeling begins in the pit of her stomach. The bones of her fingers curl into the wood sharply to steady the dizziness now consuming her mind. Intakes of air became quick and fast when she feels her throat is going to close. A few seconds later, Emily claws one hand off the railing to rest over her stomach as there is a quick jerk. She hurls herself over the banister as the day's food empties into the waves beneath.

Whipping her mouth with the back of her hand, the dizziness returns. She feels the strength of her body leave and before she knows it, the wind is whipping back at her once more, whistling in her ears. Her body lands with a distinct _thump_ onto the beams. She tries to open her eyes, but the more she pushes, the harder it is to stay conscious.

"EMILY!" The wind calls, being carried away without any reply.

* * *

**Daniel**

Daniel Grayson often caught himself watching her. Even when he tried to push her out of his head, his eyes always seemed to tilt in her direction. As if after more than six months of being together, they were trained to only rest on Emily Thorne. And now…they were lost. They shouldn't be on her anymore, but he couldn't look away.

It lightened the pain slightly that while patrolling her house, Jack had not been spotted. Word on the street was Amanda Clarke was back. His attention was clearly elsewhere these days. Which brought Daniel to the question that kept him tossing and turning in bed at night; Why? Why had given the ring back? What had he done to leave her fleeing to Jack?

He needed the answer like he needed air. It was not possible to go long without it. And time was running out. He would be leaving the beach house until to go into the city, where he would be staying until early June, next week, and this…guilt he felt had to end. He could not leave without knowing the truth. Daniel needed to talk to her, though he wasn't sure when.

His mother was dead, his father was out for dinner on business, and Charlotte was in rehab. God, things had gotten so bad. It took years of blood and work to reach the top, but one wrong step could send you falling back to the bottom. Emily had been the one holding on to him as the rest of his family disappeared around him. And now she had let go to catch Jack instead, leaving Daniel completely lost.

Shaking his head angrily, his fingers curled up into fists as he climbed the grand staircase. Slowly, he made his way to his mother's observation deck. Opening the door to the outside, a gust of wind spills in, bringing goose bumps to rise up on his arms. Quickly, he shuts the door behind him and walks to the edge of the deck, ignoring how low the temperature has dropped since the summer months. His hands go on the railing in front of him and his eyes automatically go to her house. The light in the living room are on and abruptly, Emily herself runs out of the back doors.

A breath gets caught in his throat. Taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart, he searches in the house for any approaching danger. _Is someone chasing her? Is Gordon Murphy back?_ Looking back into her house, all he sees is Nolan Ross sitting on the very edge of the couch- caught between following her or not, confusion in his eyes.

Bringing his eyes back to her, Daniel watches Emily run down the boardwalk behind her house, coming to a halt at the railing. He squinted his eyes, trying to see what she was doing. Moisture seemed to spill down her cheeks, and he wondered if she was crying. He had never seen her cry before. She stood there, her head cocked up at the sky. Then, all of a sudden she flung her heads over the railing and threw up into the bay.

He tried to look away, giving her privacy, but not in time to miss Emily wipe her mouth and then fall backwards into the beams of wood beneath. It all played out in slow motion, but he still couldn't stop himself from crying out.

"EMILY!"

He watched in horror as she didn't respond in anyway. He body was still, from what he could tell, and that was enough for Daniel to sprint through the observatory decks doors, back down the stairs, and out of the mansion to Emily's rescue.


	2. 2) Disbelief

Chapter 2: Disbelief

"Truth will always be truth, regardless of lack of understanding, disbelief, or ignorance."

-W. Clement Stone

Disbelief, by definition, is the inability or refusal to believe or to accept something as true. The astonishment or amazement towards something so ludicrous, it makes you question everything else you once thought to be true. Until, you don't know what to believe anymore, and everything is all jumbled up in one big mess of confusion.

**Emily**

_Beep._

That single, shrill variation of a sound is the first decipherable thing she understands. It conquers the drum of her ears, lifts the heavy weight of nothingness from the body, starts the dead rhythm of her heart, and shakes Emily Thorne back to the world.

_Beep._

She can breathe. Intakes of stinging air fly through her head like a swarm of bees, and she is exasperated at the difference. The overwhelming feeling of trying to get whatever she just brought into her system out does not come. She finds herself bringing it in faster, terrified that the fresh, clean air will soon be taken by smoke. Loads and loads of thick, gray, never-ending smoke.

_Beep. Beep._

Breathing quickly for a time that could be anywhere between moments and lifetimes, she stops suddenly. There is no ration in using all the air up fleetingly. If it were true that she only had seconds of clean breath, why briskly let it go by? She should savor the moment.

_Beep._

Casually, Emily's inhales and exhales become regular. Changing attention from the gulps of sweet oxygen, she realizes that it is not the only thing unusual. The index finger of her left finger quivers slightly.

_Beep._

She can move. Curiously, she feels all ten of her fingers and toes wiggle. The corners of her mouth turns up in an almost smile, and she rolls her shoulders. Not only can she now move, she can feel. A strange soreness creeps though her very core as she moves, an antique book being open for the first time in decades. She can almost touch dust drifting off of her.

_Beep._

A firework of satisfaction ignites within her. She is no longer trapped. She is now in control of her body once more. Emily can actually move her body from its locked position under what feels to be a thin sheet of some sort. Finally. Her heart rate picks up with excitement.

_Beep. Beep._

Despite the emptiness she knows there will be if she realizes this is all a dream, she pushes her luck. She shoves it far away from her, and takes the final step.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

In one, sweeping moment of fearlessness, she does it. She opens her eyes.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

She can see. From shades of total darkness and charcoal, the world sprouts color. A light switch goes off in her head. One second nothing, then next, everything.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

She must be laying down on something solid, probably some kind of bed, looking straight up. The ceiling above is pale. Clean, fresh, and white. A dramatic alteration from the darkness once surrounding her. Black to white. Bad to good. A hell to a heaven.

_Beep. Beep._

The feeling of calmness uncontrollably covers her. She instantly knows that whatever happens from here has to be better. Even if only by a little bit, that tiny amount will make a difference. Change is change, no matter how insignificant.

_Beep._

Slowly, she extends an arm away from her thigh and out a few inches. Testing out her stamina, Emily puts half of her weight on the hand, then all of it when her strength does not lapse. In one action, she rolls over onto her side, and then pushes herself up so that she is no longer lying on the bed, but sitting on it with her legs dangling down on one of the sides. Blood rushes to her head and a stiffness begins to set throughout the entire body.

_Beep._

She drops her head down to look at her hands. They rest patiently on her lap; taking refuge above a paper thin gown her body wears. Wide awake eyes sweep over the tiny patterns imprinted into the frail material, thinking about the little effort it would take to tear. Curiously, her fingers break the paper in one line, an unexpected hiss coming from it.

"Oh, good."

Her head snapping up, startled, Emily realizes that she is no longer alone. A man with light hair and brown eyes stares at her from the far corner of the hospital room.

"You're up." He speaks again.

Feeling her face scrunch up in confusion, the predicament comes to her.

_Beep. Beep._

She can hear. Her head moving to a monitor of sorts next to her, she understands it is what the _beep_ beside her is. It is a sound, just as the man's words are. The deadly audibility of nothingness is over. Bringing her head back to look at him, Emily remembers who he is. Nolan Ross. He sits in the small, white room, reading his own biography, the pages making a sweeping sound every few minutes as he turns the page.

Her toes straighten slightly, the weight of her body pressing down on them until she is no longer sitting on the bed, but instead her pale feet lay flat on the cold, hard, tile. A chill runs violently through her, making her wish she was wearing more than a robe made of paper, or at the very least, something under it. Her arms wrap instinctively around my abdomen, only slight relief coming from the action.

Changing thoughts from the low room temperature, she slowly raises her right foot, lifting its partner to match it once it's securely on the ground again. As Emily's body leans forward to meet them, her left hand stays behind, eyes sweeping over a white wire leading to a contraption on her finger and a needle sticking to the inside of her forearm for the first time. Realizing this is the reason holding her physically from moving forward, she jerks her arm quickly, the clip snapping off her finger and the sharp piece of metal dislodging itself from the skin.

"Ouch," she mutters, immediately a stinging feeling takes its place, crimson red blood forming over the wound.

Putting down the book and letting his feet fall off the foot rest to the ground, Nolan looks up at her. "Lay back down, Ems. You'll piss off the nurses."

Ignoring his directions and the ache beginning to set in her joints, Emily walks towards him angrily. "Where the hell am I?" She all but yells.

"Oh, settle down." He says back to her, rolling his eyes. "Just sit back down, and I'll tell you everything."

She hated being in the dark with things. Emily was used to knowing what was going on, and this situation was nothing she had ever encountered before. She was outside, thinking about her father when suddenly it all went dark…that was the last memory she had. And now, she was here, confused at how or when or even what day it was.

Slumping back into the thin mattress of the hospital bed, she raised her eyebrows and spoke in an impatient tone. "I'm listening."

Nolan brought his arms up in surrender. Slowly standing up, he sneaks over to the buzzer that calls a nurse and presses it. Turning back to her, he begins the story. "After you ran out of the house, which was totally ridiculous since it was good news that was being told, you continued to the boardwalk. You seemed to stay there for a few minutes, just looking out at the sky, when suddenly, you hurled into the ocean." He started to laugh, shaking his head.

Shooting daggers with her eyes, Emily frowns, the memory coming back to her. She felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Then, what-" She snaps, cut off by a nurse rushing into the room.

"Oh, ma'am," The nurse says, looking at her with an annoyed expression on her face. "Those should be left in." Rushing over to Emily, she finds a clean needle and puts the IV into her other arm, along with the clip. Once she is done and has her patient safely back in bed, the nurse tells her to not move around too much and that the doctor will be in to see her soon before rushing out.

"She was nice. Even tucked you in." Nolan says, only seconds after the nurse is gone.

Her head shaking, Emily looks up; bringing her trapped arms out from beneath the covers. Sliding so that she is now sitting in bed, she looks to him with confusion. "So…you took me to the hospital? Because I threw up?"

Shaking his head and still chuckling under his breath, Nolan continues. "No, we took you here because you then fainted."

She freezes. "I fainted?"

"Fell right onto the wood beams." He says, trying to hide a smile.

Breathing deeply, Emily thinks of something. "Wait…you said _we_…who else was with you?

He raises is eyebrows at her. "Who do you think? Lover-boy, of course."

Her eyes growing wide, Emily brings her hand up to her mouth. "You mean…Daniel?"

"Who else? He carried you all the way from the boardwalk to the car, even drove there himself. He's still here, you know. Been in and out of the room since the night he brought you here."

Silently, she thought about herself and Daniel. Even after breaking it off, he still couldn't leave her alone. Emily wasn't sure whether to take pleasure or remorse towards the matter. She had given the ring back because she was done with all the games. She was done with him. But the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if that was the truth. Had it all been just part of the revenge? Was Daniel just another piece of the puzzle?

She did not have time to think about that at the moment. Changing the subject, she asked something else. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"Other than the fact that you have an unhealthy need for revenge," Nolan responds, looking at the door. "I don't think so. I guess we'll find out from the doctor."

And as if on cue, the doctor walked in at that precise second.

"Hello, Miss Thorne. I'm Dr. Nathan Anderson." He says, coming forward to shake her hand.

She looks at him, taking in his youthful presence. He has green eyes with light brown hair that curls at the ends. He probably wasn't more than thirty, surprising her. "Please call me Emily." She says, putting on a smile and a friendly voice.

He smiles. "Emily, then." Sitting down onto a chair dragged in front of her, he continues. "You came here unconscious twenty-four hours ago. It was nothing serious, just dehydration. We ran some tests though, to look for any diseases or other reasons that lead up your collapse."

"I'm fine now, right? I can go home now?"

"Yes, you are perfectly fine. Very healthy…it's just that something…unusual…came back from the tests." Dr. Anderson says, looking Emily straight in the eyes, the way doctors always do.

"I though you said I was fine." She says, fear creeping up her throat.

"Oh, forgive me if I lead you to misunderstand." He assures. "I mean…the tests came back positive of pregnancy…"

And at that moment, everything seems to stop. Her heart pounds loudly in her ears, blood hammering to her head, the doctors words sounding slow and deep. Her eyes grow wide, words caught strangled in her throat. Her vision begins to blur, and she wonders if she is about to black out once more. Somehow, though, she's remains conscious, called back to his continued words.

"…only about six weeks. There will be signs of bloating, queasiness, and cravings beginning- that was why you got sick before fainting. You will need to take many precautions, though, needed to be taken, there is still a fair chance of miscarriage. A nurse will be in to give numbers of other doctors to see and answer any questions you will need." With that, he stood up, shook her hand, and left with an "It's nice meeting you Miss Thorne."

And then, he left, leaving Emily Thorne in disbelief.


	3. 3) Perspective

Chapter 3: Perspective

"You can't always see things for what it is if you just stare at it, sometimes you have to step back, look at things from a different perspective, and ask questions."

-Leonardo Ruiz

Life is all in a matter of perspective. One thing to someone can mean something completely different to someone else. If you were to look perspective up in the dictionary, you'd read about half a dozen different responses. But the common denominator in each of the definitions is the same. One. Perspective all comes down to who's you're looking at. To accurately know the truth, you have to find multiple perspectives. For example, in a murder there is the triangle affect. Three parties; the victim, the murderer, and the witness. The witness could no nothing but that the victim was murdered, end of story. The bad guy is obvious. But the murderer could know that the victim wasn't all too innocent, as everyone thought. And the victim, well, no one will ever know his.

* * *

**Daniel**

The tops of his fingers drummed impatiently onto the uncomfortable hospital chair in the lobby. He'd been in and out of her room all day, and she still hadn't woken, or at least he hadn't been informed so. He would have gladly taken refuge in her room, but Nolan had beaten him there. Besides, they were no longer together. He didn't want to upset her with his presence.

His eyes drooping with fatigue, Daniel looked at the wall clock. 12:34. A.M. He had been at Hampton's Hospice for twenty-four hours, without a wink of sleep. Part of him was scared she would wake up while he was asleep, and he couldn't let that happen. He was so scared. What if something was wrong with her? Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. He couldn't think like that.

Standing up slowly, he left to go to the cafeteria. The food tasted like dirt, but that wasn't what he needed. Grabbing a Styrofoam cup, he filled it with coffee. Taking a sip, he almost gaged. He's rather be drinking ocean water, but the caffeine would keep him up. Quickly, he laid a twenty down on the counter for a $3.99 coffee, leaving without even accepting the change.

Daniels shoes echoed through the hallways on his way back, the only sound that filled his ears. He had always hated hospitals, even when he was little. They always meant bad things. Someone who was completely fine didn't just come to the hospital. Aside from that, they were too plain. And cold. Like the many lives lost here had been had been absorbed into the blank walls. He felt his nose wrinkle with disgust. The harsh smell of antiseptic bringing a chill. He couldn't wait to leave this place.

Shuffling back to the lobby, he quickly sat down, and tried to pretend he wasn't here. Anywhere but. The coffee doing its job, Daniel stayed awake for another half hour until suddenly, he heard her voice. Throwing up his head, he tries to listen.

"Miss Thorne, please sign here and here." Informs the receptionist.

Emily does as she's told and quickly signs. Nolan right beside her, they continue walking towards the door, when suddenly, he feels her spot him. They stare at each other for a moment, and he begins to rise up from the chair. He believes she is coming to talk to him, when she is stopped by Jack and Amanda. Shit. He had forgotten they were here too.

"Oh my god," Amanda says, rushing towards Emily to pull her into a hug. "We were so worried,"

"I'm fine," She says quickly into Amanda's thick, curly hair. "Really. I collapsed due to dehydration. Nothing more."

"Thank God." Jack says from behind Amanda.

They embrace for a few seconds before Amanda releases her and they talk for a while. After what seems like forever, they leave.

Emily gives Nolan a quick nod, before slowly walking towards Daniel. He feels himself stiffen, all of a sudden afraid. What if she was angry? He stood up just as she was getting there and he notices how pale she is. And not angry. That's a relief.

"Daniel," She breathes, "Thank you so much. Nolan told me about how you were the one who drove me here. That really means a lot."

"Oh," Daniel says, slightly sad for some reason. "It was nothing." He is surprised abruptly to find himself angry. This was the first conversation they had had since she had given back the ring. And he is pissed at her, now that she is fine.

They stand there, awkwardly, for a few seconds. She is looking down at her feet when slowly, she looks him in the eyes for the first time. "I'm sorry," She says quietly. "For…everything…listen…we really need to talk-"

But before she can finish, Ashley Davenport walks into the lobby. "Oh, Daniel!" She cries in her British accent. "I just got back to the states an hour ago, and heard all of the voice mails." Quickly, she walks over to him in an expensive pencil skirt and blouse, her high heels clicking obnoxiously against the tile, until she is slightly between Emily and Daniel, grabbing onto his arm.

Looking at Emily, she puts on a voice of concern. "Oh, Emily, you poor thing. Good thing my Daniel was there to help you."

Immediately, Daniel feels of regret fill him. Why had he ever said yes to Ashley? Emily was about to take him back.

* * *

**Emily**

She stood in the lobby of the Hampton's Hospice, watching her ex be kissed by her own friend.

She instantly felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. There was Ashley, looking like a supermodel in the arms of one of the richest, most good-looking men in the world. And then across from them, was the nearly orphaned Emily; alone, pregnant, and wearing a dirty pair of jeans, a tank top, no makeup, and knotty hair.

"Emily was actually saying something…" Daniel trailed off, looking at her with probable pity.

"Oh, sorry, Emily. Please continue." Ashley says, smiling at her and looping her hand through Daniel's.

"It's nothing," Emily quickly whispers, not at all confident like her normal self. "I have to go; you two obviously have catching up to do." With that, she turns around and starts towards the door. Nolan follows, question in his eyes. She shakes her head, now was not the time for talking.

"Wait!" Daniel calls from behind her. "Don't you need a ride?"

She stops. Answering quickly, she looks at her shoes. "No, I'm fine. Thanks."

And then, before she can make any more of an ass out of herself, she drags Nolan out of the hospital. Once safety away and in Nolan's car she starts to breathe deeply. Her mouth can't form words. She is so shocked about everything.

"Oh. My. God." Nolan's says at last, not even putting the key into the ignition.

Emily nods.

"You're pregnant."

She nods again.

"And your baby daddy is Ashley's new boy toy."

She nods a third time. From her perspective, Daniel seemed fine with that.

He's quiet for a moment. The car is silent, the darkness pressing down on them. "Are you going to tell him?"

Emily shakes her head. "No…" She finally says hoarsely. "I'm leaving the Hampton's."

* * *

_A/N_

_Please Read!_

_Heyyy everyone! So I've been getting really good feedback which has been really encouraging me to write! Future updates will probably not be that quickly! _

_So, i just wanted to clear some things up:_

_-Emily is pregnant in this story, Amanda is not (I'm love Emily and Daniel, so i got rid of the possibility that the only reason Jack is with Amanda is because of the pregnancy)_

_-Ashley and Daniel are 'together' (like the show- sorry guys, i need some complications!)_

-_There have been questions of whether Victoria is alive or not (like the show)...mmm i can't decide...it would make it easier to write but her response to things would be pretty funny...tell me what you think should happen!_

_-More of the characters will be later incorporated_

_-I can't promise an update by tomorrow...but reviews make me update! so i need at least ten more for me to update hopefully by tuesday_

_-I love peoples ideas_

_OK, so i'm done...please review! tell me what you thought! sorry this chapter was so flat and quick! i wanted to give u something to read!_


	4. 4) Familiartity

**Chapter 4: Familiarity**

"Familiarity is the root of the closest friendships, as well as the interest's hatreds."

-Antoine Rivarol

Familiarity is what we look for in times of distress. It brings us back to other eras, and makes us remember that some things will never change. By definition, familiarity has the power to reacquaint ourselves with things we knew before. All familiarity isn't always good, though. Sure, it can shake us to times where things were better, but it can also force us to worse memories. Sometimes there are things that we remember, and wish we hadn't. Things we try to bury with lies and hated, instead of enlightenment and sanity. The best we can do is figure which is which and hope that coming back to familiar things won't leave us running away.

* * *

**Emily**

Sunlight cascades down the siding of the house, casting spots of shadow to project themselves onto her bare arms. She can just make out the soft sound of the waves rolling off the sand, and Emily Thorne is immediately brought back years ago, when she first heard the simple, sound. It is the most beautiful thing she has ever heard.

Walking closer to it, almost in a trance, she carries a box of her belongings up five steps and to the doorstep. Shaking her head, Emily rips herself from the daze, reaching her hand to the door knob, only to remember it is locked. Of course it is. She was the very being to do so more than three months ago. Shifting the box to one arm, she begins to search her body, coming up short once again. There are no pockets on the very casual attire, consisting of black yoga pants and a white tank top. Shoving her hand into the box, she sifts through pens, and pictures, finally meeting the cool metal of the key.

Sighing with relief, Emily puts it into the hole of the door, a click signifying that it is unlocked. Slowly, the door swings open, revealing the interior of her beach house.

An afternoon light streams in through the windows, warming the house, and it feels like heaven. She detests the cold, though that was exactly where she ended up going; mostly Canada, and along the borders of Alaska. She needed time off to decide things…and breathe. And out in the middle of nowhere but high winds and low temperature was perfect. Nothing to make her think about the Hamptons, her father, or even plans of revenge.

But…a quarter of the year was enough time in exile. Now, she had to stop hiding. The trip ended having the opposite effect. She was left missing the beach house more than ever, and that scared her. The farther she ran, the more she wanted to be back. This was her only, true home, despite what had gone on here. So, she was back.

Leaving the door open, she walks in through the entry way, continuing to the kitchen, leaving the cardboard box and key on the counter. Trailing her hand along the smooth granite, she reaches up to retrieve a glass from the overhanging cabinet, filling it with water straight from the faucet.

Slowly, she takes a sip and an icy river runs down her throat as she leaves the room, walking to the next. Flipping on the light switch, the space immediately fills with color. At the sight, the cup slips through her fingers, glass shattering into a million little pieces at her feet. She screams with shock.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She instantly cries out, carefully bending down to access the damage.

Across the area, sits Nolan, lounging in one of her living room chairs, his arms bent behind his head, smirking. "Wow Ems, you sure do know how to make an entrance."

"Shut up," She snaps, slight discomfort beginning to set in her calves, "Get over here and help me!"

Rolling his eyes, Nolan sits up and stalks over to her, muttering under his breath. "Hello to you too," Bending down to help her, His eyes zero in on the distinct bump set between her hips, being crushed against her knees as she cleans up the sharp pieces of glass.

"No, Ems." he says, his voice cracking with sudden concern. "I'll clean it up. Go get a dust pan,"

Standing with surprise at his quick change of tone, Emily leaves the room without second thought, coming back with a broom and dustpan to find the shards all assembled into a neat pile. Taking the objects from her possession, he sweeps the mess up and throws it away after instructing Emily to sit down. With no objection, she quickly obliges. After all, she'd just driven more than 2700 miles straight through North America. She was absolutely exhausted.

Once Nolan is gone, disposing of the glass, she tears flip flops from her very swollen feet, resting them up on the coffee table. Instantly, Emily's eyes close, her hand absentmindedly finding its way to her stomach. Lightly, her fingers trace up and down, soothing her.

"You look...different."

Her eyes snapping open, she realizes that Nolan is back. Annoyance fills her instantly. "If you're talking about my breasts, then yes, you would be correct. I'm currently a c-cup. If you're mentioning the fact that I now fit into none of my clothing and have gained ten pounds, shut the hell up."

Terror reaching his eyes, he quickly responds. "Oh, definitely the breasts...I have no idea where those tens pounds could have gone..."

Shaking her head, Emily closes her eyes again. "Right. I look like a whale."

Proceeding with caution, Nolan sits down on a chair opposite the one before. "Maybe if you bought maternity clothes…" He begins, trailing off once he sees the raise in the eyebrows, daring him to continue.

Her eyes look down at her exposed stomach, the tank top only covering to her bellybutton. "I know, I know. I'm heading out to the city tomorrow…" Silence fills the room for a few moments before she remembers why she had even dropped the glass to begin with. "Are you going to tell me why you're in my house?"

Pretending to take the question into deep consideration, he brings a finger to the temple. "Ahh…no thanks,"

"Seriously," Emily says, opening her eyes to look at him, any patience gone. "What are you doing here?"

He says nothing.

She stares at him intently. "I'm listening,"

Nolan looks away for a second, finding the words. "I…uh…I sold my house…"

"What!" She exclaims, shocked, her mouth dropping open, causing her hand to fall off her abdomen momentarily. "You _love_ your house,"

Looking away, Nolan shrugs his shoulders, making it seem as if it was nothing. "My location was targeted. Many times,"

She tries not to show it, but a small piece of her crumbles after he speaks. On the outside, Emily Thorne was a beautiful, well put together, millionaire who happened to live next door to one of the wealthiest and most respected families in the world. She was always elegant, no matter when caught, and a brave face was permanently plastered. But underneath, there was a little girl named Amanda Clarke who was screaming for help. After a while, though, she got used to the fact nobody was going to hear her. She was all by herself. When the opportunity came that she has to depend on someone else, Emily was unprepared.

Up until she had moved to the Hamptons a year ago, she was alone, and okay with that. It was easy to pretend to be close to people for revenge, because it wasn't real. But as soon as things got genuine, she broke it off. That's how she was. She lies, she steals, and she breaks. She puts other people in danger, because collateral damage is just something unavoidable. But…it was beginning to take a toll on her. How many times could you hurt the people that you loved until it started to hurt you as well?

Nolan had not been attacked once, but twice in his own house. And he is scared. She can tell. As Emily looks closer, she can also see that he is in better shape.

Smiling slightly, she holds back a scoff. "Why Nolan, have you been working out?"

Embarrassed, he looks away, his cheeks enflaming a bright crimson. "A little,"

"Well, maybe you can finally beat me in an arm wrestle contest now."

Laughing, he turns his head back to her. "Maybe," Starring at her, he sees the bags under her eyes. "Ems, I missed you. How have you been?"

Emily continues to trail her fingers up and down her belly, the baby kicking. She smiles, "I'm fine,"

"No," He quietly says, his eyes boring into his. "I mean, when no one else is around."

Her lids shutting, she tilts her head back into the cushions of the couch. "Okay, fine, you want to know how I'm doing?" She questions, not looking at him. "I'm tired, and hungry, and I look like a fat cow. My feet feel like hell and I'm completely alone in this. I'm scared out of my mind that I'm not going to do something right, or if I should even be a mom. I mean, I'm a bad person. Sure, half the people's lives I've ruined deserved it, but still…there is the other half…like you. I've driven you out of your own house, for god sakes…"

A final silence sets over the house, neither of them speaking a word. Nolan had never seen her like this before. Honest and completely crazy. It could be because of the hormones, which was definitely a possibility, but he suspected something deeper. "…wow…Emily…geez…"

"You asked, so I told,"

Taking a deep breath, Nolan raises his head up, mirroring Emily's action. "Do you want to…talk or something?"

A cackling sound of sorts comes from her. "Yeah, and then afterwards we can sit around braiding each other's hair and telling ghost stories,"

"Oh, man," He says with a smile, "You should have said so earlier; I wouldn't have cut my hair."

One at a time, she opens her eyes, the corners of her mouth turning up. Slowly, she raises her head, her chocolate brown eyes finding their way to his. She begins to laugh, shaking her head. The sound begins to fill the house, soon being accompanied by Nolan's. Together, the truly let out their emotions until the sun has gone down and Emily's stomach roars with hunger.

He makes them a small dinner consisting of pancakes and bacon. Once it is cleaned up, Emily starts to go up the stairs when she hears Nolan's voice echo from behind her, making her stop.

"Can I stay here?"

Turning, she looks at him. "Well…I guess so…I'm an early riser, so be ready to wake up by r7."

And with that, she continues through her house, falling asleep the second her head touches the pillow. The familiarity of the setting is enough to calm her completely, at peace with the world for a moment.

**PLEASE REVIEW (THERE ARE 65 FOLLOWERS NOW! SO I'M EXPECTING AT LEAST THAT MANY COMMENTS!)**

* * *

_A/N_

_Heyyyyy! _

_So thanx everyone for all the reviews and favorites/followers!_

_Sorry 4 not updating in like 2 weeks!_

_Please review! They make me update quicker!_

**_So i wanna involve the readers so i wanna kno wat u think i should do!_**

**_Baby:_**

**_a) _****_miscarriage_**

**_b) boy_**

**_c) girl_**

**_d) twins_**

**_Daniel:_**

**_a) emily tells him she's preggers, he's the daddy, they live happily ever after_**

**_b) emily tells him she's preggers but lies (telling him that he is not the daddy)_**

**_c) emily does not tell him anything, (for a while anyway) they just live awkwardly next to eachother and he's with ashley and he's wondering..._**

**_d) emily tells him she's preggers with jack's baby_**

**__**_Please help! i can see the story going anyway!_


	5. 5) Significance

**Chapter 5: Significance**

"A life isn't significant except for its impact on other lives."  
― Jackie Robinson

By definition, significance is something we all look to get out of life. When you die, you're not afraid of what happens, but more of being forgotten. Everyone wants to be remembered, and so, people will do almost anything to achieve significance. It takes over the brain, seeping into our lives until its blinds us of all else. The hunger of remembrance is so powerful; it drops people into a pit of depression once it cannot be attained. Then, it affects us in the worst way possible. It makes us believe that we are unimportant, unwanted. But, what we forget about is that significance belongs to that of the beholder.  
Actions, no matter how small, can make a difference. And so, that is what we should look to get out of life. To be loved, by friends, family, and neighbors. Because on act of kindness can go a long way. Even if it only touched one person, it has made impact.

* * *

**Emily**

Slowly, she taps the pen against the clipboard, a rhythm of sorts coming out of the tune. Flipping it over, she writes her name in a slanted, elegant format, the 'E' and 'T' distinctly larger than the rest of the letters. She reads over the rest of the sign in sheet, filling in the resident, date, and time. Giving a friendly smile to the squat, frizzy haired receptionist, Emily follows a nurse who ushers her down a corridor.

"Who are you coming to see again?" The nurse asks, turning around to look at her.

"Charlotte Grayson," Emily answers instantly, looking around at the white walls of the institute.

"Sweet girl. She'll be happy to get a visit,"

She feels the corners of her lips curl down. "Are they rare?"

"Sorry," The women responds, looking at her with something between sorrow and superiority. "Confidentiality."

The heels of her shoes ticking against the linoleum, Emily continues to trail the nurse deeper into the labyrinth. After about five minutes, the nurse stops at a door and knocks. There is rustling behind it, and she turns to Emily. "Have your bags been checked?"

Looking down, Emily looks at the dozens of shopping bags in her arms. Smiling, she answers quietly. "Yes, at the front desk."

Just then, the door opens, revealing a small girl with long brown waves and a warm smile. "Emily!" Charlotte squeals, pushing past the nurse to give her a hug. "I had no idea you were coming!"

Sensing the smell of strawberries in her hair, Emily answers. "I wanted it to be a surprise,"

Releasing her, Charlotte steps back, taking her hand to guide her into the room. Once the door is closed, they go to the bed and sit down. Looking around, Emily notices how normal the room looks. Slightly larger than a college dorm, she even has her own bathroom. There is a magenta colored bedspread and some personal touches like pictures of her family and books.

"What are those?"

Her eyeing falling to the expensive shopping bags in her hands, Emily grins. "I went shopping today and got you something," Reaching into a Giorgio Armani bag; she pulls out a Burberry handbag, passing it to Charlotte. "Here you go."

Her eyes growing large, she takes the teal colored bag. "Oh my gosh, I love it! Thank you so much Emily!" Charlotte cries, looking closely at the gift. "What's this for?"

"Your success, of course. I heard you might be coming home for good next week."

"Yeah, if the test comes back clean…" She trails off. Quickly changing the subject, she says, "I'll wear it tomorrow."

Letting the rest of the brand named bags fall to the ground, Emily takes a deep breath and takes off her jacket, sliding her sleeves out of it to reveal skinny jeans and a fitted spring top that gets larger at the stomach. Closing her eyes, she turns completely to Charlotte who is too busy admiring her new purse to see Emily's changed figure. "What's tomorrow?" She asks quietly.

"It's my family's yearly memorial day party, plus my mother's memorial," Tilting her head up to look at Emily's face, she continues. "You're coming right?"

Bringing her head up to gaze at the ceiling, Emily thinks about how to answer. Truthfully, she wasn't planning on it. "I don't know…it might be a bit awkward with Daniel and Ashley…"

Suddenly, Charlotte stops fidgeting with the bag. "Oh," She sounds hurt. "I guess I understand…it would have been nice to have a friend there for the first time being back since my mom died…"

Looking back at her, she sees the sadness in her half-sister's eyes. "Charlotte…I'm sorry…" Her eyes glass over and Emily crumbles. She was never one for hurting innocent people. "I guess I'll go."

A smile returning to her face, Charlotte responds. "Thank you…I promise it won't be awkward."

Silence greets them for a few moments as Charlotte goes to put her gift on her dresser, when she turns around, her eyes sweep over Emily completely, and for the first time, she sees her complete body. "Oh. My. God. Emily, what is _that_?_" _She all but shrieks.

Her cheeks go pink, and Emily looks away, not responding, not knowing how to correctly.

"Are you _pregnant_?"

She feels her head nod.

Charlotte comes back to sit across from her on the bed, her eyes as wide as humanly possible. She is speechless. Almost. "Is it…_his. _My brothers?"

Emily nods once more, finally coming to look at her.

"Oh my god, Emily! Congratulations!" She leans over to hug Emily again. Once she finally lets go, she sees that Charlotte is grinning from ear to ear. "I'm going to be an aunt! Why didn't you guys tell me sooner?"

"He…doesn't know…"

If Emily thought Charlottes eyes were big before, they had almost doubled in size. "What?! Why haven't you told Daniel?"

Emily's stomach drops, and she puts her hand to it to feel the baby move. "He's with Ashley, and the company…he doesn't have time to deal with me and the baby…"

Charlotte's eyes soften and she frowns. "Aw Emily…I'm sure if I talked to him-"

"No!" She says, mortified for a moment. "You can't tell him, he can't know!"

Her shoulders fall and Charlotte whispers, "But why? He'll see tomorrow at the party, anyway…"

"I know…but…." Emily bites her lip. "I'll figure something out…Charlotte promise me you won't tell him anything."

"Okay," She says, slightly confused. "I promise."

"Thank you,"

Nobody talks for a few minutes until Charlotte speaks. "How far along are you?"

"Six months next week."

"You have the glow."

Looking up, Emily smiles at her. "Thanks, I feel like a cow, though,"

Charlotte shakes her head. "You look good…do you know what it is?"

"No," Emily rubs her tummy. "I want it to be a surprise." Taking a few moments to find the right words, she looks at Charlotte. "If it's not too much to ask, I have another request,"

"Okay…what is it?"

Taking a deep breath, she looks at her with a serious expression. "Charlotte…I would love for you to be the god-mother."

Her jaw drops to the floor and Emily can see her eyes start to water. "Oh my god! Of course I will!"

And then they embrace like real sisters would, to lost souls finding their way home for just a few moments.

* * *

**Daniel**

"I'll be there in an hour," He says into the phone, pushing through the _Grayson Global_ doors while he looks down to his Rolex.

"Kay, see you then. Love you." He hears Ashley say into the receiver, the line going dead almost immediately afterward, not giving the Daniel the chance to say the words back, even though he wouldn't have.

Punching the END BUTTON, he stuffs the cellular device into the pocket of his dress pants, continuing to the pavement. Looking at the busy, five o'clock New York City traffic, he knows that there is no way he'll reach the center in time. Shaking his head, he decides to walk, since it is only a few blocks away. Besides, it would be good to stretch his legs after a day behind a desk.

Sweat begins to run down his face as he takes in the heat already starting to consume the June air. Slowly, he takes a deep breath, sliding off his expensive jacket and rolling up the sleeves of the shirt underneath. He walks to the VIP parking lot, lays the jacket in his car, and departs the headquarters.

Looking up at the sky and blinking, he begins his journey to the rehab center, anticipating how his sister will react when she sees him. Will she be surprised? Will she be happy? For a few minutes, he just walks down the sidewalks, overlooking the world around him until the smell of coffee hits him like a brick wall. He yawns with fatigue, and decides to buy the drink. After leaving a very generous tip, Daniel takes a sip, letting the inferno slide down his throat. Surprisingly, it tastes alright, and he continues down the street.

Holding the coffee away from him, he looks at the time once again. 5:30. Daniel hasn't seen Charlotte in weeks, and he knew it was only right to spend more than half an hour with her. Especially with their mother gone now…she must be so lonely. Grabbing his phone as he goes through the doors of the Institute, he gazes at the screen and quickly types Ashley a quick text.

**Running late. Meet 6:30**

Within seconds, he feels the cellphone buzz to life and he looks down to see the reply. Squinting, he pulls the phone closer and the Styrofoam cup farther away. And all it takes is two seconds of his attention away from busybodies shuffling through the doors for someone to accidently run into him, spilling the scolding hot coffee all down his shirt.

"What the hell?!" He all but screams, dropping the phone, startled from the liquid now burning his skin.

"Oh my god!" Daniel hears a woman in front of his bent head say frantically.

Lifting his neck to tell who ever it is who bumped into him off, his eyes land on the small, heart shaped face of Emily Thorne. His heart completely stops as he stares at her, taking in the chocolate brown eyes, the long blonde waves, and the confused look beginning to creep its way onto her face.

"Daniel," She breathes, looking away from him, pulling the shopping bags closer to her. "I'm so sorry."

He starts to wonder if her apology has a deeper meaning. But quickly dismisses the thought. Throwing down his hands, trying to get some of the coffee off him, he stares at her. Any anger he had before seeps out of him, being replaced with shock. "Oh…it's okay…" He manages to cough out. "It's kind of our thing."

She snaps her head back to him, a smile uncontrollably reaching her features. A soft wind-chime of a laugh escapes her; Emily's eyes sweeping over him, making him wonder what she was thinking.

"I'll pay for you to have it dry cleaned." She replies quickly, sympathy pouring out of her.

"No," He says quickly, unable to look away from her beauty. "It's fine. I don't even like this shirt,"

He hears her laugh again, a real genuine one, unlike the hesitant, foe snicker he often heard Ashley portray. "Okay, I feel really bad, though. Hopefully Charlotte won't kind seeing her big brother wet and stained."

Mirroring her facial expression, he laughs as well, trying to ignore the pain he felt over the fact that she was no longer his. "Hopefully."

They stand there awkwardly for a few moments, looking at each other's faces. Breaking the tension, Daniel speaks. "I didn't know you were back,"

"Yeah…I just got home yesterday afternoon."

Bending down to retrieve his phone, he responds. "I had no idea you two were talking."

Emily's eyes rotate around them, watching peoples annoyed expressions as they have to walk around them at the doorway. "I've been sending postcards from places I've been that last couple of months. I know how it feel to be locked up somewhere for mistakes."

Daniel can almost feel his heart melt, bringing him back to when they were still together. Emily had a terrible childhood, much different than his own. She had seen more hurt than anyone he had ever known, and it made him sad, because he knew it was even worse than what she had let on. Changing the subject, he says the first thing that pops into his head. "What are you doing tonight? Do you want to come out to dinner with Ashley and me?"

Her face immediately falls at the mention of her old friend. "No, I have plans. Sorry."

"Oh," Daniel says, standing up, extremely disappointed and jealous of whoever she was running off to see. "Well, I guess I'll see you at the party tomorrow."

"Yeah. Listen, I really have to get going. By Daniel." She gives a small wave and leaves, turning her back on him.

Just like that, the love of his life was thrown back into his world, making his heart ache just that much more. Then again, he can't find in in himself to be angry. When she broke things off, he had been left numb. He spent his time with Ashley the past months, trying to feel something again. And there was nothing. But, the moment he saw Emily, he knew she was the only one for him. He felt pain and jealousy and that was better than the nothingness. So, there he stood in between the doors of a rehab, looking like a love sick , not even minding that there was spilled coffee currently staining his shirt.

**Please Review!**

* * *

_**A/N**_

**_Okayy so thanx 4 all the reviews!_**

**I love them! So keep them coming! **

**Ok so i had some questions last chapter so thanx for everyone who responded. I know what im gunna do 4 with Daniel but the sponses for the baby were so scattered! Could everyone just say boy or girl now? Sorry if you already said, its just that i had reviews for everyone so it now narrowed down to either boy or girl! And really, i can see either one happening! O and say what you think a good name would be 2! **

**Example:**

**Boy named Aaron**

**(this is just a random name and gender choice)**

**Thanx!**


	6. 6) Reputation

**Chapter 5: Reputation**

"Your reputation is in the hands of others. That's what the reputation is. You can't control that. The only thing you can control is your character."  
― Wayne W. Dyer

What are we without our reputation? It gives us a face, a role in life. Without a part, there is no point at all in participating. Because, no matter how hard you try, you won't make a difference. And, so, reputation and significance go hand in hand. Reputation gives you significance. Even if it is not the best, at least we have a place.

* * *

**Emily**

The distinct sound of the zipper fills her bed room, sliding up the smooth silk of her dress. Letting her hands fall so her sides, Emily gives herself a quick once over in mirror. Her bloated body clothes a dark blue, strapless dress with a long bow that cascades down onto her baby bump and stops along with the dress just before her knees. She wears her hair down in soft curls that fall halfway down her back, natural looking makeup, a simple silver bracelet and matching earrings, and a pair of four inch heels- assuming that this will be the last time she'll be able to manage them. She finishes the look with a small, gray beaded bag that holds her cellphone and a pack of gum.

Considering the situation, she doesn't look half bad. Plastering on a smile, she nods at herself once and quickly turns away from reflection. Before leaving, she grabs a shawl from her closet, just in case it is chilly. Once its fibers are wrapped safely around her shoulders, Emily makes her way down the stairs, careful not to trip. She waddles to the kitchen, retrieving a bag of pretzels from the cabinet.

She begins to nibble on them, even though she had just eaten lunch less than an hour ago. _Screw it_, she thinks to herself. _The baby's hungry_. Whipping her mouth of any crumbs, she looks at the clock above the oven. "Nolan! We're already twenty minutes late!" She cries, annoyed over the fact that he took longer to get ready than she did. "I'm leaving without you!"

Right on cue, Nolan sprints down the steps, dressed in a perfectly-pressed white suit, smelling strongly of men's cologne. "Geez, Ems. Haven't you ever heard of being fashionably late?"

Giving him a look, she puts her snack back into the pantry, grabbing her clutch from the counter_._ "Which is just a nicer way of saying that we rudely didn't care when the hell it started."

"No one will even be thinking about that once they see the bulge underneath your dress," Nolan says pointing to her stomach.

Emily breathes out a deep sigh as they walk out the front door, locking it behind them. "Don't remind me."

They continue walking down to the Grayson's boat dock in silence as she predicts how people at the party will react. Nobody has seen her in months, and there is no doubt everyone will be shocked. Bringing her thoughts to words, she hears Nolan exhale to speak.

"Everyone will be asking who the father is."

"I was just going to say it was you. Since you're now living with me."

Nolan freezes. Chocked by his own disbelief, his feet stay planted in place. "_What?"_ He coughs out, his eyes ready to pop out of their sockets.

"Kidding. Like anyone would believe I'd _ever_ be with you," She says, grinning.

A disgusted look fills his face. "Wow, thanks, Ems. Seriously, what are you going to do?"

"Don't worry," Emily responds, looping her arm through his as they step up to the deck. "Nobody will flat out ask; they're too polite and sophisticated. They'll just assume it was a one night stand since there was no big announcement."

"Are you ready to accept the role of the town whore?"

She immediately thinks of Lydia, and the way people looked at her after her affair with Conrad came out. Like she was suddenly below them. But, Emily couldn't care less what others cared about her. The only response to the pregnancy she cared about was the fathers, and he would never know it was his. She hoped he would not be angry with her, at the very least. Or, maybe that would be better. Then he'd keep his distance. She quickly shakes her head. She'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

"I have to. Or Daniel finds out. And he doesn't deserve this." Finally reaching the vast boat, they climb up the ramp and onto the water. Their conversation diminishes and is immediately replaced with charming smiles as they step though a set of double doors. The scene is changed to a decorated foyer and a podium in which an invitation checker stands behind. "Name?" The middle aged man asks, looking down at a clipboard.

"Come on," Emily says, putting on a smile for the man. "You know who I am."

"I'm sorry, Miss Thorne," he says, grimacing slightly. "Your name isn't on the list, but Nolan Ross's is."

Nolan raises his eyebrows. "I'm going to go find a drink. See you on the other side." He says, smirking as he moves away from her and through to the party.

Her jaw drops over the fact that he would leave her and she silently curses him. Stepping closer to the podium, she paints on her sweetest smile. "You were the checker at my own engagement party, Phil. You know I was part of the family, and that I happen to live next door."

"Look, Miss Thorne I'm sorry. I can't let you in…"

Just then, Charlotte walks in, sporting her new purse from the following day. She is dressed in a cute dress, no doubt stitched with designer name tag, and her hair down in long waves. "Emily!" She cries. "You came!"

"I told you I would."

"Why aren't you in with the party?" She asks, her eyes tilting to Phil's wide ones as he sees Emily's stomach for the first time.

"Oh, my names not on the list…I guess I'll just go home…"

"Don't be silly." Charlotte responds quickly, turning to a very surprised invitation checker. "Emily's with me, Phil. I invited her yesterday. Get back to work."

He immediately goes red, obviously embarrassed to be reprimanded. "So sorry Miss Grayson."

Rolling her eyes, she pulls Emily through the pair of double door that Nolan had earlier disappeared between. The second they close behind them, Emily is hailed with classical music and the faint smell of scotches. A tiny bit of relief washes over her, while some disappointment comes as well. This could have been a legitimate way out. She shakes her head and looks around the fellowship. There is an open bar on one side of the room, and couches to lounge on as well as the tables and chairs. The couches began to look more desirable by the second as an ache already did the same to her feet. _Great. I've been here five minutes and my feet already feel hurt like hell. _This was going to be a long day.

"Everything is pretty much set up the same way as last year. At two, the memorial for my mother will be held outside on the deck." Charlotte says, bringing Emily back from her thoughts. Suddenly, there is slight buzz from Charlotte's purse, signaling a received message. Letting go of Emily's arm, she unzips the bag and reads her screen. "Sorry, I have to leave you now." She whispers eventually after reading the memo, her eyes still trained to the phone. "My results just came in. I'm to meet my father upstairs. Wish me luck!" With that, she leaves Emily alone in one of the most important moments of both their live.

For better, or for worse; someone's life was about to change.

Emily holds her breath and steps forward, only to be bombarded by a waiter moments later. "May I get you a drink, miss?" The waiter asks, putting on a fake smile- as if anyone wanted work to be the only way to attend such a grand party.

"Oh…" She breathes, taken off guard for a moment. "Water please,"

She sees his eyes fall down past her face, waver somewhat at her enlarged chest, and stop at her belly. He had to know who she was; Emily Thorne always attended the famous Grayson parties. She could see the judgment already start to set in his unshaven face. And she was instantly self-conscious, in front of a middle class waiter. Her reputation was already beginning to shift.

"Of course,"

He quickly walks away, departing Emily red in the face. She blamed the pregnancy for her sudden care of other people's approval. But, she would be stuck like this for the whole summer, and it was too late to leave now. She had to face the judgmental stares, and so, she moved her feet forward and to the heart of the party. Almost immediately, an older couple approaches her, giving each other looks as soon as they saw her abdomen.

"Oh, dear, we had no idea!" Exclaims the woman, stepping forward, her eyes drilling into Emily's belly. "Congratulations!"

Emily's lips curl up unnaturally and it almost hurts, either from lack of use or change in moral standards, she isn't sure. Truthfully, it could very well be one or the other, even both. Add in the facts she was almost six months pregnant, ten pounds heavier, and alone, Emily was surprised she could even handle showing her face in public. But, she somehow had managed to make it here, and she had to fool everyone on the boat that she was still a put together young women.

"Thank you," Emily replies, seeing a rise in the man's eyebrows towards his wife, whose name is something like Sarah, Sally…maybe Susan. Emily can't remember exactly, but it is in no way relevant. Anyway, she can tell that the woman wants to know more, after all the women of the Hamptons are like vultures when it comes to gossip. But Emily will not be giving anything up. So, instead they spend another ten minutes speaking awkwardly of things between politics, the weather, and even a few stories of the couples own children. Finally, they bid their good-byes and leave Emily to greet some other unfortunate soul that happens to walk through the door at the wrong moment.

_Thank God. _

Ignoring the stares she can feel penetrating her back, Emily takes a deep breath and walks to an abandoned table. The chair scrapes across the hard wood floor of the reception area, slightly squealing a sound no one but she can hear. The second her body hits the seat, she slips her feet out of the heels and rubs her soles. She was stupid to have thought she could manage these. Not while her feet had to now carry two. Emily crosses her legs, rests her hand on her knees, and looks out at the party with a new refined outlook, much happier that she doesn't have four-inch torture chambers strapped to her feet.

And the next hour continues with petty conversation, just the same as the older couple. People come with coated smiles and a false sense of congratulatory words. Emily does her best to seem polite, but she can see the judgment underneath all their painted faces. It takes no genius to figure out the reason so many people begin to crowd the room. Everyone wants to see if the rumors are true, that Emily Thorne is in fact knocked up, and how Daniel Grayson, the belated fiancé, will react. If he will come stand to be with her, glare at her, or ignore Emily are the three responses that could be displayed. If Daniel comes to be with her, then he is the father. If he is showing an inappropriate amount of rudeness, then he is not. And if he ignores her, well, then he either doesn't know or would like to pretend he doesn't. Everyone will know who the father is, or so they think, since the mother is not giving out any answers.

But, the strangest part of the whole event, in Emily's perspective anyway, is that Daniel has not even cared to attend. He seemed fine, even friendly, the day before. It is rather odd that he would show up over an hour late to his own party.

Emily takes a sip of water and contemplates his whereabouts. She can't quite place why she cares so much, but she does. Maybe she wants to get it over with already, or maybe it is because she is just as curious to see his response to her changed figure as well.

Putting down the glass of water, she sees a flash of white from the corner of her eye, and suddenly Nolan's voice is in her ear.

"You're all the rave," he whispers, taking a seat next to her at the all but vacant table, his own glass of beverage in hand. "Everyone is talking of the bloated version of Emily Thorne up in the lounge."

"Let them," Emily says, surprised at how cool and calm her voice appears. "They aren't my problem."

A grin fills his face, and he brings the scotch closer to his lips. "Wow, Ems. You're starting to sound like the old you again. Not the big, grouchy one who is worried over reputation."

Tilting her head, she gives Nolan a look. "Watch your mouth, Ross. She's still here, just in a better mood."

"Told you it was a good idea to come." He laughs and shakes his head as he lets the burning, gold liquid seep down his throat. "It's like ripping off a band aid. You have to do it quick and fast, or else it just prolongs the pain."

Emily begins to absentmindedly twirl the silk of her dress between her fingers as she looks out at all the guests. Most stand talking to each other, their eyes gliding to Emily every few seconds. _As if I couldn't tell who you were talking about, _she thought to herself sarcastically. After a few moments, she turns to Nolan. "Where do you think he is?"

"I dunno. Maybe he's up in the house crying into his pillow over the fact that you decided to flaunt yourself to everyone, only months after breaking his heart."

"Oh, shut up. He has Ashley. He's probably busy with her." She replies, chewing on her lip.

"Who do you think you're fooling, Ems?" He asks, taking her by the shoulders. "You're not happy with that, and we both know it. Do you really want Ashley to be your child's step-mommy?"

Before Emily can reply with an angry remark towards a thought that had never occurred to her, there is a thud of a door across the room. Both her and Nolan's eyes snap to the front of the room to see Daniel walk in, said 'step-mommy' draped over his arm in a tight red dress that manages to pull of all her curves without looking trashy. Inwardly, Emily's earlier confidence crumbles. The only curve she was showing off was the bulge underneath her dress.

People slowly make their way towards the Hamptons newest power couple, crowding her vision of them. Soon, all she can see is Daniel's face, and her stares at her.

She can't help but smile slightly and her heart begins to race, just like it used to. Suddenly, pressure hits her abdomen, causing her to quickly look down. _What is happening?! _She thinks frantically putting her hand to the spot on her stomach where the jolt was.

"Nolan!" She hisses. "Something's wrong!"

Nolan jerks his head back over to look at her. "What?"

Grabbing his hand, she rests it on her belly for him to feel. "Don't you feel it?"

"Relax," Nolan says, a grin coming to reach his features. "It's just a kick. All humans do it."

Her heart rate falls, and tears fill her eyes. Embarrassed at her outburst and over active emotions, Emily takes her clean napkin and dabs the corners of her eyes. Good thing she decided to wear water-proof mascara.

"Can we sit here?"

Both their heads snapping up, Nolan and Emily are met by the faces of none other than Daniel and Ashley, Daniels arm wrapped lazily around her small waist, her perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder.

The baby kicks again anxiously, and Emily knows it is because its father is close. She pats her stomach back and looks at Daniel. "Sure…"

Clearly uncomfortable, Ashley smiles down at her, the happiness not quite reaching her eyes. "Emily I had no idea you were back," She says in her British accent, sitting down across from her.

Emily's eyes flitter to Daniel who sits beside Ashley, surprised he hadn't said anything. Probably because it didn't matter. "I got back on Friday," She responds, smiling sadly. "I missed it here too much to stay away."

She sees Ashley scoot herself a fraction closer to Daniel, almost to say; _that's not the only thing you're staying away from_, before speaking again. "And how are you?"

"Tired…but good…Nolan has moved in with me, so that should turn out pretty interesting."

Both of their eyebrows rise up. "Wow, I didn't know you sold your house," Daniel says, directing his comment towards Nolan.

"Just needed a change," Nolan says coolly.

An awkward silence sets over the table and they all look from one another, waiting for someone to fill the air with words. Finally, Emily grabs her clutch from the table, having enough. "I'm sorry, but I have to go," Squeezing Nolan's arm, standing for the first time. An audible gasp escapes both of their table quests lips, seeing Emily's belly for the first time. Quickly, she pulls Nolan up and away from the table. Ditching her shoes, she looks at them one last time. "Oh, and I'm pregnant."

With that, she runs out of the room, Nolan in tow. Leaving behind Daniel completely shocked.

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

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**A/N**

**Sorry i havent updated in a while! **

**Ive been really busy but i made this chapter pretty long so i hope u arent 2 upset! **

**O & u will see Daniels reaction next chapter which might be up by next weekend! Maybe faster if i get lots of reviews of encouragement!**


	7. 7) Collision

**Chapter 6: Collision**

"No matter how many times we try to keep opposing forces away from one another, there will be a day where all hell breaks loose. A day where collision is inevitable."  
― Caroline Riegel

Life is made up into an extraordinary web of love, lies, and hate. Stitch by stitch we sew ourselves deeper into existence with them. That existence is made up of many different people, and we tend to act differently with each one of them. To our boss; we are professional. To our friends; we our comfortable. To our lovers; we are exhilarating. And to our enemy's; we are unpleasant. But, if these separate threads were to somehow become knotted together, who would we be after the collision? Would we disappear completely? Who are we without the input of other?

* * *

**Daniel**

An uncomfortable silence sets over the table and they all look from one another, waiting for someone to fill the air with words. Finally, he sees her grab her clutch up from the table. "I'm sorry, but I have to go," Squeezing Nolan's arm, Emily stands for the first time.

An audible gasp uncontrollably escapes his lips as he hears Ashley's do the same from beside him. Bulging from underneath her dress, he's see Emily's full figure. His body freezes, the surroundings beginning to dim and blur before his eyes.

Quickly, she pulls Nolan up and away from the table and looks at them one last time. "Oh, and I'm pregnant." With that, she runs out of the room, Nolan in tow.

Daniel stares after them, his mouth ajar. The world continues to go on around him in slow motion, voices echoing inside his head.

"Oh. My. _God!_" Ashley remarks, shifting her eyes towards him. "Emily must have had a better time with Jack then she let on,"

He ignores her snobby comments easily. They were something he'd grown used to. Emily on the other hand was a complete shock. He had just seen her yesterday. And she was definitely not pregnant. Except…now that he thought about it, she Emily had had a ton of shopping bags in her possession at the time. Plus, she was wearing a jacket. Add in the fact that their reunion had lasted all of five minutes, it was quite possible that he just looked over stomach.

Tearing him from his thoughts, Ashley continues to babble on. "To be honest, I'm not that surprised. I mean, she basically throws herself on every guy she encounters-"

"Shut up." His words come out quietly, but they are enough to stop her dead. For a second, Daniel sees his girlfriend just stare at him, astonished at his behavior. Truthfully, he himself is surprised. He didn't hurt women, that was something he vowed a long time ago. And he definitely didn't verbally assault them at a public affair either.

"Wait." She says, anger boiling up within her. "_What _did you just say to me?"

For the first time, he turns his head to fully look at her. She is pretty; you'd have to be completely blind to say otherwise, with her slender body, tan skin, and full lips. The thing is, she is also the type of person who knows how she looks, and frequently uses that knowledge to get what she wants. Most of the time, that's okay. She likes to have a good time, and he easily joins her. But, sometimes, he can't help compare her to Emily. Take this moment for example. In switched roles, he knows Emily wouldn't insult Ashley after she was gone. She'd stay calm, and ask Daniel how he felt about the situation.

Life didn't work that way, though. It was Emily running away, and Ashley sitting beside him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean in. I'm just shocked."

Her hand goes to his shoulder. "It's alright. It's not your fault Emily couldn't keep her knickers on."

Abruptly, Daniel stands up, looking down at Ashley for a few moments. "I'm going to go get a drink." And with that, he leaves to go find something to get him through the rest of the event. It's too bad alcohol couldn't get him through the rest of life.

The following two hours drip into routine of one drink after the next, the gold liquid burning the back of his throat in a familiar inferno. Calmness intoxicates his mind, leaving Daniel with a whole new outlook on the situation. After consuming an incoherent amount of scotch, vodka, and whatever else the bar offers, he can hardly even remember why he was so angry. All that runs through his head is a blurry vision of shoes.

Abruptly, there is a strong hand on his shoulder, and he turns with a drunken grin on his face to see his father. "Fath_er_," He slurs, picking up a glass to take another slopping sip. "How nice of you to join me."

Conrad speaks quietly, looking down at his son with disappointment and embarrassment. "Daniel, people are starting to notice your hefty intake of alcohol."

A shaky laugh escapes Daniels lips. "It's about _time_."

Rage flames behind Mr. Grayson's cool eyes, and he gives Daniel a look that only he knows is one of pure annoyance. "You missed your own mother's memorial service, for god sake, because you were too busy getting hammered. I think it would be best if you went back to the pool house."

By now, people are starting to notice the dispute between two-thirds of the remaining Grayson's. Seeing this, Conrad steps back, gives everyone a friendly smile, and pulls Daniel up by his collar. Daniel, too poisoned to truly realize or care about the audience, pushes away from his father, and back to the table he was at earlier.

Objects appearing doubled, he bends down, hooks a finger through the back of a pair of high-heels, and stumbles out of the boat with no other offense. Blindly, he blunders down the dark dock until his dress shoes meet sand. And before what's left of his consciousness can tell him otherwise, he makes his way to the back door of Emily Thorne's house.

Banging unexpectedly against the door, Nolan comes to the entry, absolutely confused. "Wait-Daniel? What are you doing here?"

Completely drunk, Daniel holds up the shoes and pushes inside the house, not even realizing that there is yet another man in the room. With a _thump_, the high heels land on the floor, and he scrambles in the direction of the couch. In one final moment, his knees give out, and Daniel Grayson collapses onto Emily's sofa, out cold.

* * *

**Emily**

The shhh of the water dies down and she steps out of the shower, wrapping a robe around her body. Its soft fibers feel like satin on her raw skin as she walks over to the mirror. She wipes her hand across the fogged up glass and looks at herself. Judging by her red eyes, an outside observer would think she had just spent the last hour crying. The pulsing hot water was good on her aching back, though.

Opening the door, Emily walks across the hallway, cool air hitting her the second she has escaped the bathroom. The sound of her feet hitting the floorboards echo's through her head while she treads, going straight to her closet. She pulls out a pair of black leggings and a thin, cotton shirt that's sleeves end at her elbows. Seizing a gray sweater, she leaves the room with a comb in hand.

Sluggishly, she takes the stairs, running the comb through her long, wet hair. Once reaching the first floor, she walks straight to the kitchen. The clock reads quarter of five. _Screw it. _Trotting to the cupboard, her stomach growls loudly, causing irritation to flush through her as she sees the empty shelves.

"Shit," She mutters. All that sits is the half-eaten bag of pretzels from earlier, so she grabs that and begins to munch loudly. Knowing that she, the baby, and Nolan will need much more than a dozen stale pretzels for dinner, she leaves the kitchen, throws the now empty bag away, and breaths a deep sigh. "I'm going out!"

Dressed more casually than before, Nolan sits at the edge of the couch, his laptop propped up on the coffee table to form a makeshift desk. In a chorus of clicks, his fingers speed across the keys, captivating his concentration. He doesn't even look up from the screen, just replies with a simple. "Pick me up some skittles."

Emily rolls her eyes, a smile reaching her features slightly. Even annoyed at the lack of decent food, she is in a much better mood now that she has gotten the party over with. "Maybe,"

Grabbing both her purse and keys from the hooks beside the door, she slides her swollen feet into a pair of moccasins and leaves. Instantly, Emily is grateful for the sweater wrapped around her, for a soft breeze breathes down neck the next moment. Though her stomach sticks out in a "who do you think you're kidding?" way, at least her arms are warm.

The sun is still out, but not bright enough for the lights at the boat dock to be unneeded. From the corner of her eyes, she can just make out the huge boat and distant sound of the event. Walking a little faster in the direction of her car, she shakes her head. Okay, so running out barefoot wasn't exactly 'getting through the party', but still, she showed her face. Now everyone knew of Emily Thorne's condition, and that was the goal, wasn't it? Just as Nolan had said earlier, it was like ripping off a band aid. Best to be done quickly.

She tries to think back to Daniels reaction while driving. Although she had left right after throwing "Oh, and I'm pregnant" over her shoulder, Emily had seen enough of his facial expression. If it hadn't been the current situation, his wide eyes, furrow of the brows, and deer caught in the headlights appearance would have been comical. Other than that, she was at a loss. Did he suspect that the baby was his? She hoped he didn't.

_Bbbeeeeeeppp._

"What the f-" Slamming on the brakes, Emily swerves into the GIANT Markets parking lot, just in time to get away from the speeding car. For a second, her heart stops, exhale caught in the back of her throat. Parking in the closest empty space, she yanks the keys out of the ignition, and straightens her curled up fingers from the steering wheel. Resting her hand to her stomach, she feels the baby frantically kick. In a rush of relief, she breathes out, her frozen heart starting to beat with exhilaration once more.

"It's okay, baby." Her voice almost immediately becomes softer. It is rare that she shows her soft side. But stripped down, past the women raging with revenge and full of lies, Emily is really a compassionate person. That is, for people who disserve it.

Wiping her hands across her face, Emily gathers her purse from the passenger seat. Automatically, she reaches for a portable makeup bag, painting mascara on her eyelashes and foundation to her face. Sweeping her fingers through her damp hair, she nods at herself once in the mirror. Once she is certain that both her and the baby have calmed down, loops her arm through her hand bag and emerges from the car.

The next hour goes by uneventful, her cart piling up more and more with food she probably would never have gotten if it hadn't been for the pregnancy. Picking up a bright red apple, she brings the fruit closer to her face, inspecting the surface. Suddenly, her cart knocks into her from behind, and she snaps her head around, startled.

"Oh, excuse me-" The dark brown eyes of Amanda Clark stare back at her, shocked by Emily's appearance. The two women gape at each other for a moment, and then a smile breaks out on Amanda's. "Emily! I had no idea you were back!" She steps aside from her own cart, the one that accidently knocked into Emily's, and pulls her into a hug.

Emily gently squeezes back, something between happiness and surprise trickling its way into her. "Yeah, I got back Friday." To be honest, she had completely forgotten about Amanda. Not in a rude way, but more in one where she was too busy to think about an old friend. Now, though, it felt good to see her again. After all, she was one of the few people who knew the truth about Emily.

"Oh, my god! You're pregnant!" Amanda steps back to fully look at her. Without even asking permission, she rests her hand to Emily's stomach. Emily didn't care, though. It was a relief to have someone not judging her for the bulge underneath her sweater, but actually happy for it. "How far along are you?"

She pats her stomach before replying. "Six months today,"

"Aww. Your baby has fully grown hands now! Congratulations!"

Emily can't help but laugh at this response. The past months have been spent with her ashamed of the pregnancy. How could she have been so irresponsible as to get knocked up? But this moment with Amanda left her feeling better about the whole thing. She was twenty-six years old, filthy rich, and perfectly capable of raising a child, for god sakes! "Thanks, Amanda. Really. You should have seen all of the looks I was getting at the party earlier."

While talking, the pair has slowly started to push their extremely full carts out of the fresh produce area, and into the checkout line. "Screw them. If they were able to take their noses out of the air for five seconds they'd be able to see that you being pregnant isn't a crime! It's the miracle of life!"

A giggle unexpectedly escapes Emily.

"What?" Amanda asks, looking at her with a smile.

"I've actually missed you."

She cocks her head to the side, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Wow, thanks. I can feel the love radiating off of you."

Putting the top of her groceries on the gyrating belt, Emily speaks again. "Oh, you know I missed you. Enough about me. How have you been, Amanda?"

"Oh, you know," A grin flashes across her face, and she raises her left hand, as if to put a flyaway curl behind her ear. Suddenly, Emily's eyes zero in on her ring finger, were a bright diamond rests, mounted to a gold band.

"Oh. My. God." She whispers, her mouth just about to the floor. Now it is Emily's turn to be surprised. "Is that a _ring_? Like an _engagement ring_?"

Amanda's eyes twinkle, and she nods with pride. "Yes! Jack proposed in March!"

Emily freezes for a second, and then slowly starts to thaw with ease. That time in the winter, where she kissed Jack was something she thought back to often. Sammy was the last thing she had left of her childhood. His death left her vulnerable and, add in the fact that she was unknowingly a few weeks pregnant, a complete mess. Daniel was off becoming the exact thing she was trying to destroy, and she needed someone to comfort her. Jack was there for her when she needed someone to just hold her.

Isn't it strange how one tweak in the present can completely alter your future? What if she hadn't kissed Jack? Or if Ashley hadn't told Daniel? Would Emily and Daniel still be together? Or would she be with Jack? These are questions that will never be answered, because it's too late. Everything has changed.

"That's great, Amanda." And, believe it or not, she actually means it.

They beam at each other. "The wedding is at the end of July. And now that you're back, I want you to be my maid of honor!"

Remembering Nolan's request, she snatches a pack or skittles, and adds it to the end of her order. Emily stairs at her as she pays the bill, the receipt curling down to the floor. "W-what?" She stutters, stunned. "You have _got_ to be kidding!"

"No, of course not. Come one, you have to be. You're the only friend I have here!"

By now, they are back in the parking lot, pushing the heavy carts to their cars. The sun is nearly completely down, bringing the outside lights to have come on. Emily's car meets them first, and she files the plastic bags into the trunk. "Amanda, I'll be 7 ½ months in by then. I'll be a walking planet. You don't want that in your wedding."

"I don't care. You'll still manage to look gorgeous."

"I'll think about it…" Emily trails off, the chilly air starting to sink in. It really is cold out there.

The two friends embrace once again, pulling apart with farewell smiles. "Thank you. We'll have to get together for lunch one day."

"Definitely," With that, Emily waves, gets in her car, and drives away. About halfway home, she realizes that Amanda didn't even ask who the father was. Not once. A smile creeps to her face. She was crazy if she though Emily would be in her wedding. But whatever. She could think what she wished.

Ten minutes later, she reaches her house. The engine dies, and she sprints out of the car, antsy from the cold. Grabbing as many grocery bags as her arms can manage, Emily leaves the trunk open and runs up to the porch, kicking the door with her foot. Her breath spills out like smoke in front of her, and she becomes bothered at having to wait. Just as her leg comes up for a harder, stronger kick, Nolan opens the door, amused for some reason.

"Oh, look who finally made home."

Emily shakes her head, her eyes squinting with confusion. "I told you I was going to the grocery store…"

"Well, did you get me the skittles?"

"Come and help me, and you'll find out." She says, dancing out of the cold.

"Uh, Ems. See, I'm at a predicament, here. Either help out a pregnant lady or attend to our guests."

Dropping the bags off in the kitchen, she walks back to the foyer, completely confused. "Wait-what?"

"Yeah…uh…two former boyfriends of yours both decided to stop by while you were out." He points to the living room.

Following his hand, she walks to the next room, only to find a horrifying sight. Daniel passed out on her couch. And Aiden reading the paper, one leg propped up on the knee of the other, smiling at her from above.

**PLEASE REVIEW! (THEY MOTIVATE MY UPDATES)**

* * *

**_A/N_  
**

**_Dah Dah Dah Dah! Plot-twist! (Sorry but i had to add that. No offense, but it really irritates me when people say that)_**

**_So sorry for not updating in a few weeks. The reviews weren't really coming in so i wasn't really motivated._**

**_For some reason this chapter took me a long time to write, and its not very in-depth (sorry)_**

**_Some people have been saying that i should just come up with things myself (since i am the writer) and stop asking people for help...well i was honestly just trying to get a feel for my readers...i mean...i already have my own ideas but i was trying to incorporate you guys more...so if you want to still give me ideas for the name and sex of the baby, i wont object. _**

**_And if you say what ive been thinking, ill even tell you (btw, that has already happened with one of you (only one!))_**

**_Well i hoped you liked the chapter, and ill try to update soon...please tell me what you think._**

**_p.s. i know people are going to ask this. NO! THIS IS NOT AN AIDEN/EMILY STORY! You'll just have to stick around to find out why i brought him in!_**

**_Am i spelling Aiden right? While writing it, i couldn't figure out if it was AIDEN or AIDAN (i feel like its with an e) and what is his last name?_**

**_Oh and for like the ten of you actually reading this, there is one thing im still debating...SHOULD I BRING IN VICTORIA? I just cant decide._**

**_Thanx!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxo_**


	8. 8) Revelation

**Chapter 7: Revelation**

"The revelation of thought takes men out of servitude into freedom."  
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Without even realizing it, we seek out revelation. By definition, it means to comprehend something, to understand it. It is only after we have met it at the frontline of the battle field that we can destroy it. To destroy, we need to know it like the back of our own hand. We must reach a revelation with it. Because then, and only then, can we fully work the fundamentals of it. Then, we can move on.

* * *

**Daniel**

He awakes resting on his abdomen, a blanket laid over his body, and an ache splitting throughout his entire head. Whipping his dry tongue against the roof of his mouth, he opens his eyes, squinting into the early morning light.

Immediately, a groan escapes his lips as he sits up, the quilt sliding off to reveal the clothes he was wearing yesterday. Cradling his head in his hands, he closes his eyes and sighs. Sadly, this is not a first time for him to wake up somewhere other than his home in the same clothes as the night before, suffering a major hangover. The least he can hope for is that he managed not to excessively piss anyone off in his time of intoxication.

Swallowing with uncertainty, he tries to figure out his last clear memory. Images of the party flash before his eyes in a reckless blur. The eccentric red of Ashley's dress...Emily's face, fierce in expression…alcohol scorching his throat…a pair of forgotten shoes…Then, it all begins to dim at the corners, burning away into blackness. Daniel shakes his head slightly, and leisurely stands to his feet. The echo of his heart throbbing throughout his head in pain, he looks around at the atmosphere. Soft, neutral tones, chairs, and a couch. There is a fire place set in front of him, and he doesn't even have to look at the pictures on the mantle to know where he is.

Emily's house. Silently cursing under his breath, he freezes, trapped by his own embarrassment. Oh, no. What had he done?

As if to answer his question, a voice speaks quietly from behind him. "You passed out on my couch last night."

Staggered, he spins around to find Emily standing at the entryway, dressed in jogging clothes and a coffee mug pressed to her fingers. His eyes waver at her stomach, and yesterday's party comes flooding back to him, causing him to temporally forget about the killer hangover. "Wait-what?"

A hesitant smile stretches across her face. "I was out when it happened, but apparently you came over to bring me my shoes?"

Running his fingers through his knotted hair, Daniel thinks back. "I'm a bit fuzzy on the details. Mind you I was completely trashed."

"Yeah," She pats her belly. "So I gathered."

"Emily, it won't happen again. I'm so sorry."

For the first time, he realizes she isn't angry. Not in the least. "It caused some interesting conversation topic when I did return home, but it's fine. You're phone seems to have been going off all morning, by the way." She points towards his pocket.

Scooping the device out of folds of his wrinkled dress pants, he sees that his disappearance triggered quite the disturbance. Twelve missed calls; three from his father, two from Charlotte, and seven from Ashley. Aside from that, there were about twenty texts, all saying basically the same things. _Where the hell are you?_

"You're a missed man."

The corners of his mouth twitch, and he wonders whether or not she ever missed him. If she ever wanted him so much, it hurt. If she ever wished that they were still together. "I guess so," For a few moments, an awkward stillness sets between the two. Emily just stares at him, one hand resting on her stomach, the other wrapped around the coffee cup. Daniels fingers jerk towards the phone once, and then he carelessly slides it back into his pocket. "Uh…I should go."

She blinks at him, as if this response surprises her. Then, recognition lights her features. She takes a sip from the mug, then steps closer to him. "Yeah, we don't want anyone getting the wrong idea, what with you leaving in the same clothes as you came in."

Containing the feeling to give her a hug, he nods, gives appreciation one more time, and goes to the door. As his hand reaches for the doorknob, Emily whispers something so quietly, he can hardly hear what it is. "What?" He asks, stopping.

Cautiously, she bends down and leaves her half drunken coffee on the coffee table. "I could accompany you, if you'd like."

Despite his superior verdict, he thinks over her question. Daniel knows that he should say no. It would be better for both of them if he walked out those doors and never looked back. He shouldn't want her anymore. He shouldn't love her. She cheated on him, and was now expecting a baby. He shouldn't just not love her, he should hate her. But…he doesn't. "I would like that."

She smiles at him, and walks across the room to retrieve her shoes. "I was planning on going for a walk. It's not good for the b-" She stops herself from saying baby at the sight of his slightly hurt expression. "It's not good to run in my condition."

Staying a good foot away from each other in distance, they leave the house. He never looked at the clock, so he doesn't know the specific time, but it has to be earlier than seven, judging by the blinding light. Instantly, the sun burns his eyes, making his whole head ache that much more. Squinting, they both stay quiet for a few minutes until Emily asks a question. "Did you hear from Charlotte?"

Taken back, he looks at her. She looks even more beautiful now with the sun beating down on her golden hair. "I think she called, but I was clearly too out of it to answer."

"Well, _I _answered. She got her test results back."

"Oh," He had completely forgotten. "How are they?"

By now, the massive Grayson Manor has come into complete view. Within minutes, he will be gone. "Good. Everything came back fine. I'm really happy for her. She'll be moved back home by the end of the week."

Daniel hates that he has to hear the news second-hand. It was his sister. But it was Emily acting more of friend to Charlotte than himself. "Oh…that's great."

The two reach the beginning of his father's driveway, and they stop moving. A part of him so badly wants to just ask her whether or not it is his baby. Nevertheless, he has a right to know. But another portion is scared. Sometimes it's better not to know. Because if he does ask, and the baby isn't his, then all hope of any reconciliation is gone. And so, he doesn't say anything. And either does she.

* * *

**Emily**

She stares at him with a sudden desire to touch. The manner in which they are speaking is just so normal that thought of understanding consumes her mind, and before she even has time to stop herself, Emily leans forwards and wraps her arms around his muscular torso.

Squeezing hard and refusing to let go, she holds on, inhaling his familiar scent. At first, she feels Daniel tense in astonishment, but then he eventually folds his arms around her also. Without the need for words, they grasp each other with such fierceness, you'd think it was the last time one would ever see the other.

Suddenly, there is a nudge in the pit of her stomach, and I smile uncontrollably breaks across Emily's face. Daniel must feel the baby's kicks also, because his arms go slack, and they break apart; the moment of resolution over. And just like that, the world in which they live in is thrust back at them. In this world, reality is that they are no longer together. Daniel is with Ashley. Emily is with nobody…but she has the baby. And Daniel is unknowingly the father. Everything is complex.

Pushing herself away, Emily steps back a few feet, uncomfortable with her overactive hormones. Her hand pats back at her baby. "I-I'm sorry." She was caught up in the moment.

"What was that for?" He asks, his eyes wide with concern.

"I-I," She stutters once more. "I'm just…thankful for how nice you're being to me."

For a half a second, she sees his eyes drift to her belly. "Well, I did pass out on your couch last night. I should be the one grateful for your friendliness."

She tilts her head to the side. "You know that's not what I meant."

"I know."

At that precise second, the front door of the house swings open and out walks Ashley. She wears a white pencil skirt, a floral patterned blouse, heels, and her hair up in a perfect bun. With a very self-confident demeanor, she struts down the front path, a concerned hand rested over her chest. "Oh, Daniel! Thank _god_!"

Lacing her arms around his neck, she pulls his head down to a kiss. After a few uncomfortable seconds, they break apart for air and she mutters "I've been worrying all night long!"

_Sure, _Emily thinks to herself. _Even though you're clearly overdressed for someone up 'worrying' about their boyfriend all night. _Obviously unneeded, she slowly begins to back away when she hears Ashley call after her.

"Wait, Emily!"

Startled, she slowly spins. "Yes?"

"Thank you for taking care of him." And somehow, she actually sounds genuine. It was easy to think of Ashley as the bad guy in this whole situation. After all, she was the one to tell Daniel about Emily's encounter with Jack. But…Ashley didn't force Emily to do anything. She just told Daniel what his fiancée was doing being his back. And now, she had Emily's position in the Grayson family as his new mistress.

Emily smiles slightly, and nods. "No problem,"

With that, she turns away from them and continues on past the house. The wind blowing her ponytail, she strides for another twenty-five minutes before stopping at a lone park bench. Exhaling, she sits down on the wood beams, her hands instinctively wrapping around her belly. A gust of wind breezes by, and she looks out at the road in front of her. Cars speed by, and she can't help but think back to a movie she saw a long time ago. After more than fifty years as an inmate, a man was let out of jail. He was completely caught off-guard when he found how fast-paced the world had become, and in the end, he decided not to stay.

She never found this very significant until now. What it's saying is that the world around you will continue to rotate without any knowledge of your being. Everyone else's lives didn't stop when Emily left. They progressed into something far from her control.

Suddenly, she feels moisture fog her eyes, and she raises a hand to wipe away the shed tear. One after the other, they remain streaming down her face. And without care, she lets the rain fall.

There is an absence of tissues, so the water begins to plaster her skin, reddening the eyes. She hardly ever cries. Actually, Emily cannot even remember the last time she truly let her emotions out and just let tears leak from the corner of her eyes. She vowed a long time ago not to get close to anyone. Not to love anyone. Love is unpredictable and complicated. It acts as a venom, seeping into our mind until all we think about is the poison. But the scary part is that we trick ourselves into thinking that its good. That's why Emily got out while she still could.

A soft purr sounds from beside, and from the corner of her eye, she sees a dark object grow lighter as it got closer to her. Within seconds, the sports car is a few yards away from her and she hears the engine die. Hesitantly, a figure steps out of vehicle, a hand in each trouser pocket. Running his fingers through his gold locks, he cautiously proceeds to the bench. When her eyes don't even snap out of their trained position on the road, he sits down next to her, a faint creep coming up from the shift in weight.

"Ems," He whispers, taking out a handkerchief to hand to her. "What are you doing here?"

He sees her eyes slighting travel to his outstretched arm and then back again. Ignoring his question, she speaks, her voice hoarse from the crying. "Really? The 1800's just called; they want their hanky's back."

His face falling, he looks at her, slightly hurt. "Hey, handkerchiefs are very sensible things to carry around with you. Their much more fashionable than tissues. Plus, you never know the next time you have to track down your sobbing roommate." This remark causes them both to fall silent, all humor gone. She slides farther down the bench, away from him, causing there to be more patience and understanding when Nolan speaks again. "Please don't push me away."

Emily's arms stay curled around her baby bump, letting the tears dry stiffly to her face. "That's what I do. I push people away; especially when I need them most. I pushed Daniel away, and now everything is screwed up." Her voice doesn't come out as sobs, exactly. There is more of an empty clarity to it that scares him more than the water-works do.

Nolan gradually scoots closer to her and wipes the tears away from her eyes with the handkerchief he 'stole from the 1800's'. "Yeah, you did."

This time, an almost scoff escapes the back of her throat, and her head falls onto his open shoulder. They sit like that for a few minutes, looking at the passing traffic in revelation. He never saw her this…vulnerable. Not even the night she found she was pregnant.

"And you know what the shittiest part of this whole thing is?"

Surprised by her words, he wonders whether she is speaking aloud. Still, curiosity pushes him to ask anyway. "What?"

A light drizzle begins to drip down on them, dampening crowns of their heads. Neither seem to notice the change in weather though, at least not right away. "I love him. I love him, and that's why I ended it. I was scared. And now it's too late. _I'm_ too late."

He closes his eyes for the briefest of seconds, reopening them to wrap his arm around her shoulders. What was there to say, really? He couldn't make her feel any worse than she already felt, could her? Emily's anger issues now doubled with the pregnancy meant hell for him. But there wasn't anything he could do or say to make it better. So, he replied with the only thing that came to mind.

"I know,"

**PLEASE REVIEW! (THEY MODIVATE MY UPDATES)**

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_OKay so sorry i havent updated in a while...and that this chapter is pretty uneventful (just think of it as a bridging chapter)_**

**_Earliers questions are still open_**

**_(Baby name, sex, etc.)_**

**_Btw, i have a new one. Its called 'Lets guess what is going to happen once the show comes back on'_**

**_a) Daniel & Emily will get back together_**

**_b) Aiden & Emily will grow closer_**

**_c) Daniel will murder Aiden_**

**_d) Aiden will murder Daniel_**

**_e) Emily will murder both of them and run away with Ashley_**

**_Okay so i will count the votes and posts them next chapter...so seriously vote._**

**_There are around 150 followers, so im exspecting at least that many more reviews until i update..._**

**_xoxoxo_**

**_secretlife1201_**


	9. 9) Evaporation

**Chapter 9: Evaporation**

"Separation penetrates the disappearing person like a pigment and steeps him in gentle radiance."

-Boy George

* * *

**Emily**

The pixels of the small screen blur with motion as she stairs across the room, her eyes drilling into the glass. Beneath a rested hand, Emily feels her heart swell with pride at the incredible sight layed out in front of her.

"See, right there is the head," The ultrasound technician says, a friendly smile playing on her face. "And there is a hand. And…uh…would you like to know the sex of your baby?"

Emily looks into the woman's dark eyes, feeling the cool gel she had earlier squirted out onto her abdomen. "No thank you." Her tone light with happiness towards the sight and heartbeat of her baby. "I would like it to be a surprise."

The technician looks past Emily, eying the individual standing quietly in the corner for half a second. "Does the father not agree?"

Her head snaps back to Aiden, remembering that he is in the room as well. "He's not the father." She quickly responds as the Aiden substitutes 'he's' for 'I'm' at the precise time.

"Oh," The women whispers, immediately flustered by her mistake. "I'm sorry. I just assumed-"

"It's fine." Emily cuts her off, her eyes drifting to the room around them instead of the technicians own pair. Silence fills the space for the brief minutes where the women cleans the gel from Emily's stomach and shuts down the equipment. As Emily pulls her shirt back down, the woman asks if she would like a copy of the ultra sound or not. Responding with the words "Two, please," she leaves just as the doctor walks into the room, a folder tucked neatly under her arm.

"Emily, your results have come back, and everything looks normal. At twenty-eight weeks, you're doing great." Dr. Sadie Anderson says with a smile.

Emily slowly stands and looks at the doctor. For only a few years older than herself, the woman has become a doctor, married another sophisticated physician who works in the ER, and is expecting their second child. A month further along, Sadie even appears more energetic than Emily does.

"That's good." She responds, relief flooding her. "So the Thursday after the next? Same time?"

The technician comes back with the pictures, then scurries away as Aiden steps a little closer to Emily. Sadie's face falls, and she pats her belly. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. See, Emily, this will be my last appointment with you."

Her heart begins to pound. Though, she does well to mask her true feelings, her shock drops to the pit of her stomach and she feels fear climbs up her throat. Her husband was the doctor Emily had a few months back and the very one to tell her of her own pregnancy. Her first appointment was with Sadie, one of the doctors Dr. Anderson had obviously recommended. Since Emily's return, nearly three weeks ago, she had been going to Sadie. And this is the doctor she is comfortable around, or rather used to.

"Oh…" She murmurs, astonished.

In the short time Emily had known her; she already knew Sadie was a very gentle and caring person. And at the moment, she looked to be on the verge of tears. "I'm really sorry. It's just that my last results came back showing that I have high blood pressure. Nothing vast, but it is suggested that I take my maternity leave sooner as a precaution. Of course when Nathan heard the news, he refused anything less."

Instantly, any selfish thoughts came to an end. How on earth could Emily even think of reprimanding a _doctor's_ care? After all, she would do anything to keep her baby healthy. "Sadie, it's fine. Really. There are other doctors out there. You and your baby's safety come first."

Without any warning, Sadie gently lays her hand on Emily's shoulder; the way doctors always do, and looks her straight in the eyes. Instead of recoiling from the touch of another human being, she feels a flood of warmth. _Geez_. This pregnancy was really making Emily an affectionate person. And that was a fact Nolan wasn't ignoring, especially not after he found her crying her eyes out a mile away from their house.

The sound of Aiden clearing his throat behind them causes Sadie to drop her arm and reach for her clipboard. "Here," She says, handing Emily a small piece of cardstock. "This is something I never do, but I see how scared you are."

Looking down, she sees that the paper is a business card, labeled with two phone number and both her name and the practice's.

"If anything happens, or you just need someone to talk to, call the second number; that's my cell."

Emily slides the card into the back pocket of her thin white shorts, nodding with gratitude, though she knows that she will never use the number. With that, the women smile at each other, bid the other hope of a successful pregnancy, and depart. While the door of the room closes behind them, Emily feels Aiden's hand on the small of her back. As if an ice cube has been shoved down the back of her shirt, she cringes away from his contact.

"I told you to stay in the car," She hisses at him once they are away from any other ears. From the corner of her eyes, Emily sees him shrug his shoulders, and she adds "Or at least the lobby."

"They were all out of seats." He responds, looking straight ahead. "Like I'm going to be the one to take a chair away from a pregnant lady."

She scoffs. "Why were you even here again?"

"Oh, I don't know," Aiden clicks the pad of his right index finger to his chin. "Because you had an appointment, your car is in the shop, and Nolan is gone on business. You should be thanking me at the moment."

"I mean here, here. In the Hamptons." The words come quietly as she stands at the front desk, waiting for the administrator to make a next appointment with another recommended doctor.

"Because you contacted me a few months back while you were somewhere in Canada, asking for help to find your mother."

They make their way out of the building, and his big expensive car comes into view. She shakes her head once. "Well, you aren't going to hear any appreciation from me. You had no right to be in there, so that cancels out your act of kindness."

She continues walking a few yards, coming to a halt at the rear of the vehicle. The click of the doors being unlocked does not come, so she turns to question Aiden. To Emily's great surprise, though, she is alone. A gust of wind rolls by, stirring any flyaway hairs from her loose bun, and she squints back towards the clinic. In the middle of the parking lot, starring at her in deep though, he stands frozen. She stops, jumbled. "What the hell are you doing? Let's go!" Her voice comes out as yell since he is so far away.

Aiden stays planted in his spot firmly, and she silently curses under her breath. Uncontrollably, her foot begins to tap with annoyance. "C'mon, Aiden. Stop fooling around." Emily spent the evening before tossing and turning, not able to get comfortable in her own bed. Nights were always the worst. For some reason, the baby is always more energetic while all she wants to do is curl up and sleep for hours. In total, those hours were reduced to only 5. _300 minutes of sleep_, she thinks with a sad sigh. Those lost 3 hours, which she usually got post-pregnancy (depending on whether or not she had company, of course) really would have put her in a better mood.

Quietly, Aiden murmurs something that she can't understand. "_What?_"

"You used to be nicer."

This time, his words float to her ears without any complication whatsoever, and it takes her a moment to register what his is saying. But once she does understand what he is saying, she is infuriated. "_Excuse me?_"

"You heard me," He responds, his hands sliding into each pocket of his shorts. "You used to not be so bloody rude. So...superior. It's like every time you look at me, you become instantly pissed off. Every time you talk to me, each word is riddled with disgust, even when I'm helping you out."

Emily feels pure rage begin to prickle to tips of her fingers. They coil towards her involuntarily, and it takes all of her not to go over and publicly assault him. "You have no right to say that." She spits out quietly.

"Why? It's the truth."

"You have no right." She repeats, louder with each word. "YOU broke it off without even leaving a letter. YOU just left me there. I was ready to drop every plan to be with you. Because I loved you, I really did. But instead, you slipped off into the night, and I was forced to continue on with my plans. And now look at me, knocked up with the enemy's baby. The enemy I'm somehow in love with. And YOU think you can just come to my house a few years later as if nothing has happened? And then yell at me when I _dare_ to be angry?"

The words all come rushing out of her mouth so fast, she can't stop them. But Emily is glad they are out. He deserves to feel her pain. To know how she cried herself to sleep for weeks after he left, in private of course. She had a feeling that Takeda knew, though. He let her soundlessly mope for a while, until one day he came to her and simply said 'That which doesn't kill us makes us stronger.' And after that, she pursued revenge with a passion even deeper than before.

Both fall completely silent. Emily just shakes her head at what could have been, tightens her grip on the strap of her purse, and turns back around. On this late June afternoon, she wears a thin floral shirt with a white tank top underneath, jean capris, and plain slip on shoes which come from a company/charity she annually donates to. The outfit is comfy enough that if she walks the rest of the five or so miles it will take to get back home, her feet won't be killing her.

Without looking back, she pushes out of the parking lot, ignoring the calls she hears from Aiden behind her. _Screw you!_ She screams in her head. Purposely, she walks across the street to a small park that has narrow paths, and no room to drive through completely. She smiles to herself. He won't follow her on foot because he is parked in a two hour parking space, which, looking at her watch is almost up. And he's too new to the area to know where to drive, since there are houses that line either side of the park. He won't follow her, Emily is certain of that. She just needs some time to breathe.

About halfway through the park, her phone starts vibrating. She doesn't even need to look down to know who it is. Rolling her eyes, she powers off her phone and keep walking to the edge of the park. The trees naturally end, and she follows the sidewalk to a large strip of shops. Judging be the size and names of the stores, they aren't huge retailers. More like small, antiques that are all homemade and owned by families.

Slowly, she walks to the closest building. It must have been a house before changed to a shop, she concludes, observing at the exterior. Looking around, she notices that the same could be said for all the structures. And then, something strange happens. Her lips curl, and she uncontrollably breaks out into a smile. Not the tight, forces one she often wears, but a real one. The one she didn't need to portray. The one Emily couldn't help but wear when Daniel was around.

**Nolan**

"Okay," He says calmly. "This is where your company was a year ago, without Nolcorp," Nolan brings up a graph on a large screen at the front of the room. "And this is now. As you can all see, your sales have risen a considerable amount with the help of my technology. If you buy the update of that technology, your sales are estimated to triple," Next, he brings up another graph.

The long table in front of him is filled with all the board members of a company he sold to last year. Unlike most, he doesn't get frightened by standing up in front of potential buyers, not when he knew they would buy from him. Their company was doing so much better with Nolcorp associated. They wouldn't hesitate to buy the update.

Proving Nolan correct, they agree, the CEO shakes his hand, and he packs up his equipment for the slideshow. _Another easy sell._ As he slings his laptop bag over his shoulder, he walks out of the room, offering nods to all the board members. Reaching the lobby, he continues to the front door, but someone calls his name.

"Mr. Ross?"

Turning around, he sees the receptionist standing at her desk. "Yes?"

"I have an Aiden Mathis on line two for you. Do you know him?"

Silently, he groans. The guy was really starting to get on his nerves. But still, he knew Aiden wouldn't call if it wasn't for something important. Smiling at the young receptionist, he takes the phone.

"Nolan?" The voice crackles over the phone, his accent thick with what sounds to be concern.

He runs his fingers through his hair. "Speaking,"

"God! Why haven't you been answering your phone?"

Nolan tilts his head to the side, and looks at the receptionist. She has long blonde hair and is staring at him. He shakes his head and mouths to her _It's nothing. _Taking her cue to kind her own business, she spins in her chair and goes back to typing away at the computer.

Holding the phone closer, he replies. "I was in a _meeting. _It's still turned off." Aiden stays quiet for a moment, a strange hissing sound coming from his end. "Wait, are you in the car?"

"Yes."

Suddenly, Nolan remembers what day it is. Thursday. "How was Emily's appointment? Can I talk to her?"

"No, Nolan." He sounds desperate, and that causes Nolan to freeze and listen. "That's why I'm calling. She's gone! I can't find her!"

"What?" The receptionist must notice his change of tone, because she quickly glances in his direction, and then back to the screen. "Tell me everything." Aiden goes on to tell Nolan all that happened in a strangled voice. It's clear that he feels guilty, and with good reason. "Why on earth," He hisses. "Would you pick a fight with an almost seven months pregnant women? Especially when that woman is Emily Thorne?"

"I-I don't know." Aiden stutters. "She was being so bitchy and I was just tired of it."

"Christ, you didn't tell her that did you?"

He responds sheepishly. "Not in those exact words."

Nolan feels his head shake as he closes his eyes and rests his head on his hand. "Just…go home. Emily will probably just burn off some steam and call a friend. I'll be home tonight around eight. If she's not home by then, we have something to worry about."

"What if something happens? You know how she's been lately."

Immediately, he thinks back to a week ago. She had forgotten the password to get into her own laptop, and needed him to hack into it. A few days prior to that incident, she fell asleep with the oven on. They'd all woken up in the middle of the night to the fire alarm. She wasn't exactly reliable anymore. "I know…just trust me. If she doesn't want to be found, you won't be able to find her. Go home and work up a good apology. You better believe she'll be pissed."

Nolan hears him sigh. "Okay. I'll do that."

"Well, I have to go." He says, looking down at his watch." He hangs up, and thanks the receptionist. Stepping out into the blinding sunlight of the company's headquarters, he dials Emily. To no surprise, he is sent straight to voicemail, so he leaves a message.

"Ems; come out, come out, where ever you are."

**Emily**

She runs her fingers over the smooth white paint, inspecting the piece of furniture. Treading back, her eyes fall upon all four pieces in the set, and without second thought, Emily knows that she loves them. They are a simple white, but crafted very well. Among the arrangement, there is a long dresser, a wardrobe, a changing table, and of course a crib. Patting her belly, she can even envision it laid out in the nursery.

Emily looks at the price, and sees that it's relatively cheap, as well. Checking her wallet, she takes account of a credit card, and walks back to the front of the store. The register is abandoned, so she rings the bell.

Sure enough, a voice hollers from the back. "I'll be right there!" A moment later, a women walks out, and Emily does a double take.

"Amanda?" She chokes out.

"Oh my god, Emily! What are you doing here?" Amanda asks, coming to stand behind the counter.

"I was just doing some shopping, and come across this strip of shops. I had no idea they even existed. I've been here the last three hours, just shopping. What are you doing here?"

She curls a piece of hair around finger. "Yeah it's just like the name of the store, _Lost Treasures._ I started working here a few weeks after Jack proposed. You know, for extra money for the wedding."

Emily nods. "You could have asked me. You know I'd help you out."

"I know. It's my wedding, though, not yours. Plus, I like working here. It makes me feel like I'm doing something with my life."

Uncontrollably, she feels a pang of jealousy. Not only is Amanda holding a steady relationship, but doing something important. Emily on the other hand is alone, pregnant, and completely bored. Most days she stays at home with Aiden, trying to dig more stuff up about her mother's existence. So far, things weren't going very well.

"Speaking of…" She starts with a grin. "Have you decided whether or not you'll be my maid of honor?"

Her stomach twists. "I…no. I think you should ask Charlotte. I mean, you two have been getting closer and it will just make sense. Declan will probably be Jack's best man…it's just better this way. I'll still attend, though."

"Oh, well…" She looks hurt for a moment, and then she smiles. "Will you at least be a bridesmaid?"

Emily internally groans, but then thinks. Amanda has after all done a lot for her. "I guess so."

Immediately, she runs across the counter and gives her a hug. "Great! And could you ask Nolan to be a groomsman?"

If she was going to have to be in the wedding, Nolan sure as hell would be as well. "Of course."

They stand quiet for a moment. "Oh, right. You needed help. Did you find something you liked?

"Yeah, I like I would like to buy the white nursery set in the back."

"The one that costs $3800?"

Emily isn't really someone who likes to flash money around, so she just nods.

"Well, I'm glad it's going to someone who's going to use it. That set is really beautiful. I remember the man who brought it in; he built it for his wife. She died from a fall, and sadly so did the baby. He said he didn't want to see it anymore." Amanda says quietly, leading Emily back to the furniture. "So, it was never used."

She can't help but feel sad at for the man. "That's terrible."

"Yeah, it is." Amanda says simply, her eyes tracing the set. "Anyway, would you like for us to deliver it to your house, or are you taking it now?"

_Right._ She had almost forgotten that she didn't have a car. "Delivery would be best."

Amanda takes down all of Emily's information, and they finish just before the store closes. They walk out together, chatting as they go. Amanda locks the door behind them and they stop at her car. It's 7 o'clock, so the sun is still up. She waves goodbye to Amanda and walks back to the direction of the park.

"Wait, where's your car?"

She stops, and slowly turns. She'd hoped Amanda wouldn't ask. "Parked at the clinic. It's just through the park, here." The lie rolls off her tongue without hesitation. "I walked over earlier."

She opens the car door, but doesn't sit down. "Oh, well, be careful."

Her head nods. "Bye, Amanda."

She waits until the taillights of Amanda's car have disappeared before walking back to the park. It is disserted except for someone running down the paths and an elderly person sitting on a bench feeding birds. She walks swiftly through the wooded area until coming back to the front entrance. Clutching her purse, she rubs her stomach as the baby kicks. Wind tickles her arm, and she wraps her hands to the opposite forearm. The evening really did get cold.

Colors of yellow and orange soon turn a few shades darker, and before she knows it, Emily is striding through darkness. Her pace quickens, and she powers her phone back on. Looking down, she sees that there are over twenty missed calls. One from Nolan, the rest from Aiden. She knows that the smart thing to do would be to call one of them to pick her up. But something stops her itching fingers. Anger towards Aiden still burns, and there is no way she'll give Nolan another reason to think of her as weak.

Just the other day, he'd even said that she was going soft, and that exasperated her. Okay, so maybe she was forgetting things more easily at the moment, but that is perfectly normal during pregnancy. She could still be just as badass as she used to be. Besides, if walking home in the dark would do that, then so be it. There were a few streetlights above her, and sometimes was even a side walk. She could do this.

That confidence begins to gradually evaporate into the air however. Her body involuntarily shakes from the cold, and for the first time, Emily realizes that she doesn't know where she's going. The tree branch hanging into the road seems to look a lot like the one she passed a few minutes ago, proving that she's been walking in a circle. But for how long? Has she made no progress in the last half-hour of walking?

Suddenly, there is the steady drone of a car engine behind her, and she walks to the far right, trying to avoid the vehicle. There had been few passing cars, and it was so dark now she can barely see anything but the blinding headlights. Turning so that each foot is on the yellow paint, Emily crosses her arms and waits for the car to pass. Except…it doesn't.

The engine still running, a dark hooded figure steps out. She feels her chest tighten, confused on what is happening. Her fingers curl into fists; she finds her hand reaching towards her purse, and then stop. _Shit! _She screams at herself. Her gun is in the other purse. She didn't expect to need it, since the day began with a harmless appointment.

The person approaches her, and she thinks of running. That's no good. She doesn't know where she's going. Chances are she doesn't even need to. Maybe it's a tourist, looking for directions. "Um…excuse me? Do you need something?" He comes closer, until he's just a few feet away from her. This is no lost traveler. Emily knows that something's wrong. Very wrong. Rapidly, the hood falls, revealing who it is.

"Hello, Miss Thorne."

Exhale gets caught in the back of her throat. And before she can think to do anything at all, Gordon Murphy plunges a needle deep into her bare neck, injecting her with enough anesthetics to knock anyone out instantly.

**PLEASE REVIEW! (THEY MOTIVATE MY UPDATES)**

* * *

_**A/N**_

_**Okay so I am really sorry that it has taken so long to update. December was a very busy month for my family (three birthdays) and then there was of course the holidays and on top of that I got tendinitis in my wrist, so my doctor said to limit my time on the the computer. **__**Anyway, I'm all better now (thank god! (tendinitis is a real bitch)) and finals for school are almost over so I can get back to hopefully updating everything few weeks!**_

_**Back to the story, I hope you all liked this chapter. I felt bad about not writing in a while, so i wrote a pretty long chapter (about 8 pages on a word document). I felt like I tied up a lot of loose ends, and of course it needed to end with a cliffhanger! Hey, I need something to keep you all coming back. **_

_**As for the contest I had last time, most people said that they thought Emily and Daniel would get back together in the show! In my opinion...I'm not exactly sure. At the end of the last episode Aiden was really scarring me and now I'm not sure what to think...of course I want Daniel and Emily together so I'll just keep praying!**_

_**I love reviews so please leave a comment with how you feel about the chapter or what you think should happen...I don't know just say whatever you want:)**_

**_Earliers questions are still open_**

**_(Baby name, sex, etc.)_**

**_So I'm asking the same question as last time. 'Lets guess what is going to happen once the show comes back on'_**

**_a) Daniel & Emily will get back together_**

**_b) Aiden & Emily will break up_**

**_c) Victoria will murder someone_**

**_d) Amanda and Jack get in a boat accident_**

**_e)All of the above_**

**_f) Non of the above_**

**_Okay so i will count the votes and posts them next chapter...so seriously vote._**

**_For anyone who didn't see the promo episode 2x13 will be called 'Union' and I guess Amanda and Jack are getting married (it looks like Emily cries...she really needs to get over that guy because hes in love with Amanda and they have a baby...)_**

**_Oh and one last thing, after you see the promo tell me what you think about Jack's wedding look. I guess he could finally afford a razor because that little half beard thing he had going on is gone and in my opinion he looks really dumb...I mean I know its his wedding and all but i just don't like it..._**

**_There are 180 some followers, so I'm expecting at least that many more reviews until i update..._**

**_xoxoxo_**

**_secretlife1201_**


	10. 10) Comprehension

**Chapter 10: Comprehension**

"Neither comprehension nor learning can take place in an atmosphere of anxiety."

-Rose Kennedy

* * *

**Nolan**

His fingers drum unintentionally against the table top, any last ounce of patience draining and bubbling up into that one repeated action. A laptop is propped up on the counter in front of his tired eyes, mocking him with its absence of help. And using more effort than should be needed, Nolan Ross stiffly reaches for the high-caffeinated drink beside him, because God knows how many hours of sleep he has gotten the past few days.

A heavy head falls into his hands as he exhales deeply, the tips of each index and middle finger slowly beginning to rub circles over the temples. His hand then sweeps through the messy hair, each eye drooping for the thousandth time that night. Sluggishly, he rises from the bar stool underneath the edge of the island, regaining his balance for a moment before making his way to the outside porch.

The man outside must hear him coming, you'd have to be completely deaf not to notice the unpleasant squeal that escapes the floorboards once Nolan steps on them, but Aiden pretends not to. As bad as the first looks, with wrinkled cloths and sinking eyes, the next appears must worst. Nolan might have gotten five hours of sleep, but Aiden has gotten none. Absolutely none. Nor has he taken in any thought of proper hygiene, that much is clear from the unshaven face to the same wrinkled clothes he'd first put on days ago.

"I didn't know that you smoked," Nolan remarks, coming to stand next to him at the railing.

His eyes flicker to the side Nolan now stands, and then back to staring up at the pale blue sky. "I don't." He flicks the singed cigarette butt into the sand below.

"Just like you don't litter the beautiful beaches of the Hamptons?"

A smile almost reaches his face, but it resembles more of a grimace than an expression of cheer. "Precisely."

Nolan runs a hand through his hair again. Unlike Aiden, he has at least washed out the grease. Even a best friend's disappearance can't stop Nolan from showering. "Emily will be pissed when she sees that you've turned her porch into a designated smoking area."

Aiden flinches for a moment at the mention of her name. They stand for a few more minutes in utter silence, both too exhausted and defeated to feel the awkwardness of the pause, until Aiden finally voices whatever is going on in that head of his. "Speaking of...?"

"Nothing." Nolan immediately cuts off any last hope either of them might be holding onto. "She's been gone a week, and we've made undeniably no progress."

A sigh escapes his lips. Of course not. Even after nonstop searches days in and days out, they are no closer to finding her than when Nolan first got back. With each passing day, their hope began to disappear, dwindling into something far beyond either of their control. And they are starting to go crazy- Aiden more so than Nolan. Nolan wants to find her simply because she's his friend. But Aiden…he's knitted himself into a much more complicated web of reestablishment. Sure, he wants to find the women he once loved, but more importantly, he _needs _to stop the guilt conquering his very being.

Without hesitation, he stuffs his hand onto the pocket of his wrinkled khakis. A cell phone emerges and his finger automatically dials the only number showing up in the recent calls. Aiden waits a few seconds in anticipation, but he is sent straight to voicemail. "Hey, it's Emily. I can't come to the phone right now, so leave a message and I'll try to get back to you."

He punches END CALL and plunges the phone back into the folds of his pants angrily.

"I'm taking that as you didn't reach her." Nolan whispers after a few moments.

"Just her bloody voicemail."

He finds himself nodding, since that's the farthest he's gotten as well. His eyes blink up at the late afternoon sky, wondering briefly why Aiden's last remark catches him as odd. Her voicemail… "Wait!" He suddenly cries out, his hands coming up from the railing. "Aiden, you are _brilliant_! Her voicemail!" With that, he runs back into Emily's house, filled with the first spark of optimism either of them has felt all week.

Aiden freezes, his insides tightening with confusion. _What the hell was that?_ But knowing of Nolan's intelligence to things like this, he follows without caution. "What are you talking about? What's going on?" He walks into the kitchen, where Nolan once again sits in front of his computer, his fingers flying across the keys.

Without looking up from the screen, he answers in an almost robotic voice. "I can't believe I didn't notice it before…" _click, click, click_ "…I mean, it's such a simple thing, we overlooked it!"

Completely lost, Aiden claps a hand on his shoulder. "Nolan, what the hell are you talking about?"

_Click, click, click. _"Her voicemail! It's still there; her phone hasn't been deactivated yet!"

Suddenly, the reason for Nolan's excitement is reasonable. "Which means we can track it!" He all but yelps.

"Exactly!" Eagerly, he types in a website that can trace lost phones, even if they are powered off. Thanks to Emily's pregnancy brain, he knows her password. Keying in INFINTY, he continues to the locating process. For a few moments, there is a beeping sound as an aerial view of the Hamptons appears on the screen. Both men hold their breath as the view zooms in, pinpointing the site. And soon, they have an exact location. He takes note of the address and then jumps off the chair again. Sprinting across the house, he pulls the front door open for both of them.

The two are in Nolan's car within seconds, driving ten mph faster than the speed limit. They reach the location, and pull over at the side of the road. Recognizing the scene, Aiden's eyes go wide.

"Wait," He murmurs, squinting to see farther down the road. "This is just down the street from the clinic I took her to!"

Nolan steps out of the car and follows Aiden's gaze. "Do you think she was walking home?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "She must have been." Frustration flashes through Aiden as he walks around the vehicle, his eyes falling upon the cellphone. "Shit. She's not here, just her phone." He kneels down and retrieves the device from the grass. It's smeared with moisture from the night before, and a web of cracks start in the right corner, making its way to fill the rest of the screen.

Nolan steps forward to see what Aiden found. "Turn it on."

The phone glows to life as his finger presses the power button, bringing up the time, date, and a notification for about 50 missed calls. He squints at the monitor, a dark glare bouncing off the glass, causing it difficult to read. Aiden's finger urgently scrolls through her texts, reading if there are any strange messages. "There's nothing." He finally speaks, handing the phone over to Nolan in anguish. "Just a ton of missed calls."

He takes the phone and studies it as well. Instead of searching through old messages, Nolan looks at different aspects of the device. Emily is smart, there's no doubt about it. If something had suddenly come up, she'd leave something to tell him. Maybe not obviously, but there'd be something imbedded beneath the surface. He knew it. For half-an-hour, they sit in his car, parked at the side of the road. He goes through everything, trying to think like her. And eventually, he comes up with a few possibilities.

Scenario #1: She gets a call from Takeda, recruiting her for a new mission. _Unlikely, considering her condition. _

Scenario #2: She runs away, ditching her phone and getting a ride with some random passing car. _Again, improbable. She'd pack, she'd tell him, or she'd at least disconnect her phone. Emily Thorne is not a stir-of-the-moment type of person. _

Scenario #3: She's walking home from a long day. Its late, she's pregnant, and most importantly alone. Someone pulls up in a car, grabs her from behind, and she can't do anything but throw her phone in the nearby grass. _Emily knew I'd track her phone after she didn't come home for a few days. She did the first thing she could think of._

As horrible as it sounds, scenario #3 is the most likely. It's the only situation that makes sense. But as Nolan explains to Aiden his thoughts, they are both mixed up on the 'who' in the situation. Who would be able to abduct Emily Thorne? Even a bloated, hormonal version is stronger than a regular person. Her training would immediately kick in.

"There aren't many people who would kidnap a rich pregnant lady, especially one as well-known as Emily." Aiden says. "Think about it Nolan, it has to be someone well trained and has an element of surprise. Someone who would make her stop, and think before fighting."

The sky outside has slowly shifted to gray, anticipating the night. They've been here for nearly the whole evening. "So, again, who?" He closes his eyes, trying to think. "Victoria Grayson; dead. Gordon Murphy; dead. Lydia Davis; dead. Tyler Barrol; dead. Frank Stevens; dead. All the possible candidates are gone!"

They rack their brains until their heads actually start to ache from concentration. The tricky thing about the setup is what they were to do with the new knowledge. What would Emily do? That was the question currently running through their heads. Would she want them to rescue her? Honestly, they didn't know. Would she want them to rescue her baby? That, Nolan knew for sure. She loved her baby. And with her own life so tied to the child's, that meant she'd want to be found. Even if that meant jeopardizing her plans for revenge.

He looks over to say something to Aiden, but to his great surprise, he is huddled over, each hand covering his face. "Chill out," He mutters under his breath.

The next second, Aiden's fist instantly flies into the compartment in front of the passenger seat, causing the whole car to quiver beneath their fingers at the sudden force. An angry howl of frustration escapes Aiden's lips and he shuts his eyes in despair, his hands clamping together. "We have to find her. We _have _to, Nolan. Because if we don't, if anything happens to her, it's all my fault."

**Daniel**

His diaphragm tightens, however the need for air easily ignored. With each eye shut, he can almost imagine what it would be like to stay down here, letting the water crush him forever. Maybe he'd be able to finally exhale and breathe, ironically enough he feels as if he can do that more at the bottom of his family swimming pool than up in the messy drama currently filling his life.

God, everything had gotten so complicated. One summer he was a kid in college, partying every night without a care in the world. He could be stupid, because it didn't matter. Mommy and Daddy would bail him out of anything, only a distasteful scrunch of the lips from Victoria to symbolize that she even noticed. But now…everyone was watching. He can barely turn on the TV without a news reporter commenting on the fact that his wedding planner had somehow become his mistress over the course of a few months. Sometimes he asks himself the same exact question, though. Ashley is a whole other section of life he worries about.

She may have started out as a rebound, but Daniel has grown to like how it feels to be around her. Add her good looks with a little too much time at the open bar, and he has a few hours to forget about the pain. That sure is better than moping around, pretending that everything is okay when the very foundation of his life is little by little crumbling to the ground.

Still, he doesn't see his relationship with her going any farther than it currently is. With Emily, he knew that he loved her. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But…Daniel can't say the same about Ashley. He often feels bad for using her, but she seems pretty content with how it is also.

Eventually he recognizes that he has been under the water for more than four minutes. His lungs furiously ache for oxygen, spots of red dotting his vision. Kicking his feet off the tile, he propels himself up, breaking through the surface with a splash. Immediately, he sucks in the warm air before bobbing back into the water. He swims to the closest ladder and steps out pool.

A towel is waiting for him on a chase lounge, so he swoops down to retrieve it. Just as he runs the fabric through his dripping hair, a female voice speaks from behind him.

"Daniel, something's…wrong."

Spinning around, he finds Charlotte in a light summer dress, a line of worry set between her two manicured eyebrows and Declan a meter or so behind her with an expression mirroring his girlfriends. Something about their facials features stops Daniel for a moment and he feels his chest tighten, just like it did when he was underwater. For the first time, he hears a long-plaintive scream that plunges into the very depths of his soul; alarms that sound on police cars when there's been some kind of accident. Or not an accident whatsoever. Looking closer at the couple, he also sees that they both seem to be out of breath.

He wraps the towel around his shoulders, and looks at them, bewildered. "What? What's going on?"

Charlotte bites her bottom lip, suddenly afraid to tell him. She herself doesn't quite know what is going on. "Declan and I were walking along the beach, watching the sunset. But on our way back, we started hearing all these high pitched squeals of sirens while passing Emily's house, and that's when we saw all the flashing lights. Daniel, there's a bunch of police cars in Emily's driveway!"

He doesn't understand, as if his brain is short-circuited and needs to be rebooted. In front of Daniel, Charlotte reaches out to him in slow-motion, trying to show her concern. However, he doesn't notice her at all. Instead, the only thoughts running through his head are ones of Emily. Daniel presses the heels of his hands into his eyes until he sees nothing but sparkles. And before anyone can even talk him out of it, he drops the towel and strides away.

His sister calls to him, "Wait!"

But he overlooks her cries without any pang of conscience. He sprints though the open gate of the fence surrounding the back patio, running with pure adrenaline. Sand particles gather between his toes, causing him to lose partial grip. Still, he keeps on moving away from Grayson Manor. Before he knows it, he has reached Emily's driveway, which just as Charlotte had said, is filled with police cruisers, their lights flashing through the dark, eerily illuminating the whole scene to look much worse up close than it did afar.

He walks to the closest person he can find, who happens to be a local police man. It's hard to see properly, but Daniel can just make out a balding head and giant gut spilling over a gradually loosened belt. A stereotypical cop.

"What's going on?" He all but screams at the man, forgetting any tips his mother ever taught him about getting information out of people. Approach with caution and absolute indifference. Don't let the person think that you need them, if anything, make them consider the exact opposite. You want them to need _you_. You want to be the one holding all the cards, or at least seem like you are.

But he has no time for that foolishness. Life is not a game to him, like it was to Victoria. He's not afraid of looking weak, and little does he know that that actually makes him appear stronger.

The police man turns to look at him, clear annoyance in his gaze. "You're just going to have to back away, sir. This is a private investigation."

His heart stops, however its Daniels turn to be irritated. He thrusts away from the pudgy, unhelpful cop and keeps pushing through the growing crowd of unacquainted faces. Chatter- lots of voices are all speaking at once, but somehow nothing their saying makes any sense. He catches her name a few times, but keeps walking through the maze. Hot breath closes in on him, and he feels as if he's about to faint just before he finally finds a familiar being.

"Nolan!" He quickens his pace; coming to a halt in front of the only person he knows can help him. "What the hell is going on? Is Emily is okay?"

He notices that the British guy is beside Nolan, and Daniel can't help but become angry. Aiden- he recalls his name, is the man now living with Emily, and undoubtedly the father of her baby. The whole situation makes him sick, and he only now understands he shouldn't be here. Adrenaline had gotten him here, but it deserted Daniel the second he really needed it.

He turns to go, embarrassed by his appearance. A hand comes to clutch around his bicep, and he stops dead in his tracks. Did this guy seriously want to start something? He opens his mouth to take in a sharp breath, ready for the first punch.

It never comes.

Instead Aiden says the only thing that matters. "Daniel, Emily's missing. We…think that she has been abducted."

**Emily**

_It's freezing_. That's the first thing she can comprehend.

An icy shiver creeps down her back, causing her spine to curve and the rest of her stiff body to curl up into itself. Goose bumps rise on every inch of Emily's skin, leaving a bumpy canvas for the arms being tightened around her chest.

It's takes a moment, but sooner or later she comes to realize that she shouldn't be this cold. Her fingers claw the sheets, and it all feels wrong. The cloth is rough, as if sand has been dumped underneath the covers. All at once, her eyes snap open, and she realizes that she's not in her own bed. She's not even in the Hamptons any longer.

She sits straight up, but is stopped by the metal bracelet on her left arm, digging deep into her flesh. "Damn it!"

She had been walking…it was getting cold…darker…car…Gordon Murphy…

Her last conscious night comes back to her in a fleeting haze, making her heart pound rapidly. Emily fights against the handcuffs, the other side clenched securely around something connected to the wall. Looking down, she sees that the bed frame happens to be screwed to the floor. Her eyes scrunch shut, the way they do whenever you have just woken up from a deep sleep.

Once again, she pulls her arm, testing the quality of the metal. It clangs loudly, an annoying ring, but doesn't loosen its grip. Looking past the bed, she sees a large, musty room. Light is dim, but not enough to miss the low ceiling, disheveled carpet, and old furniture littering the space. She turns back to the handcuffs, and slowly stands up. Screwed firmly into the walls, runs a track, about one and a half inches in width. Emily follows the pipe of sorts, her shackles trailing along. She walks away from the bed, and down a few yards to a book case; tattered novels. The piping wraps around to a sitting area; worn couches, small TV, etc. Next, she passes a half open door; bathroom.

The room is set up in a rectangle; two single beds in the two far left corners, the bathroom on the other side with the sitting area next-door, and a small, round table in the middle of it all. The tube in which her handcuff is attached to goes everywhere, yet nowhere at the same time. The door to the lavatory has a half circle cut beside the door knob, so that it still closes but the pipe goes even in there. So that you are chained at all times.

By now, Emily has made it back to the bed. She sits on the edge, eyeing the far wall. There is a door, bigger than the one outside the bathroom, but with no handles. That is the thing that strikes her as the strangest. The whole situation is so…perfect. If Emily was going to kidnap someone, this is exactly how she would do it.

-Come from behind, knocking them out before they can defend themselves.

-Anesthetics; immediate and long lasting. She could have been out for hours or days, she doesn't know.

-Hold them in a room that is comfy but not extravagant. Probably a basement.

-No windows. No doors. No communication to the outside world.

Abruptly, the doors at the front of the room open, and her head flies in the direction of the unexpected wail that they make. A thin woman with ragged clothing is pushed through the entryway. She falls to the ground into a weak heap, her mousy hair covering her face. Gordon Murphy stands in the small room behind, which appears to be an elevator.

-No accessible way out.

He looks at Emily with a sneer, handcuffs the middle-aged female back to the wall, and then the doors close.

She can't stop looking at the sad, little woman on the ground, though. She lays her hand on her stomach, and stares. The woman coughs a few times, and finally rises to her knees. Long, unkempt hair parts down the middle to reveal a face that causes Emily to gasp in astonishment.

"Emily." She greets in a voice less terrifying now that she holds no authority whatsoever.

Emily's mouth falls open, words stuck in her throat. Her blood curdles, and it's like looking at the dead. "Victoria." She finally manages to choke out.

**PLEASE REVIEW! (THEY MOTIVATE MY UPDATES)**

* * *

_A/N_

_I'll keep this short. _

_I've been busy so that's why its taken so long to update. Would you rather have short pieces of crap every week or a long, thought out, spell-checked chapter every few weeks?_

_Thanks for everyone who has been flavoring/following/and or commenting on the story!_

_I will try to update within two weeks (no promises, though)_

_Tell me what you thought of the chapter, give input, and what you'd like to see happen!_

_xoxoxo_

_-secretlife1201_

_p.s. what do you think of the show now? Amanda's death took me completely off-guard and I even teared up at the end! I was not expecting that and I'm really afraid of what Jack will be like now (we've seen a darker, more manipulative side of him and I don't know if I like it). The new guy Eli honestly gives me the creeps and Victoria has been extra-bitchy lately. This new Falcon character should be interesting and so should seeing the Grayson's possibly bankrupt!_


	11. 11) Confrontation

**Chapter 11: Confrontation**

**Emily**

Her entire body is frozen, each muscle tightening up in utter disbelief. The face goes slack; mouth slightly ajar, color draining from her skin. She stares wide-eyed at the woman who up until this moment was thought to be dead, any thoughts of escape momentarily postponed.

Question of Victoria Grayson's demise had never even crossed her mind before now. The plane she'd been riding on exploded, leaving no survivors. There'd been a funeral, even a memorial. Emily had wiped her hands afterwards, as she was supposed to be done with half of the Grayson's. She mentally kicks herself now for not questioning it earlier. Here Victoria stands, looking tired and weak, but definitely alive.

Emily lets out a sudden sigh, opening her mouth to speak, but then shutting it again. Victoria looks so…different. She's thinner, with sagging skin and no makeup to paint away the blemishes. Somehow, those fierce, cold eyes are the same, though. Even on the floor, wearing tattered remains of the clothes she allegedly died in, Victoria still manages to have eyes that can cause psychological damage.

She looks in Emily's direction, but doesn't exactly make eye contact. It's as if she's reading everything that's happened in her absence, taking it all in with a smile that ends at the sight of her protruding stomach. Victoria's overgrown eyebrows rise slightly, evidently surprised at the discovery.

"Well, well, well. Haven't we been busy, Miss Thorne." The words don't come out exactly like an insult, but more of a revelation. The fraise isn't even a question; just a statement, which isn't surprising in the slightest to Emily. Judgmental stares were never enough for Victoria. No, she liked to see her victims squirm uncomfortably under her harsh comments and expressions.

Emily protectively wraps the arm that's not stuck to the wall around her baby bump, slowly coming to stand from the bed. Each eye squeezes into slights, as if to say '_Excuse me?'_, causing her to forget all about the shock at Victoria's presence she felt just a few seconds ago.

Victoria comes to her feet as well, using the piping as a grip to get up. She stumbles, and Emily almost feels bad for her. Almost. She obviously doesn't see Emily's unspoken anger, or doesn't care to anyway, because she keeps on talking in a high, placid tone once at the same level. "A result of your time with Mr. Porter, no doubt."

_Something's never change. _

Any sympathy is completely gone. Thanks to Ashley, a picture much worse than reality had been painted for the Grayson's of what had transpired between her and Jack. They kissed after having to bury the last living thing she had left of her childhood. End of story. Nothing else had happened, but no one seemed to believe that life could be so simple. People liked a much more scandalous interpretation, Victoria included.

Emily takes in a long, drawn out breath. She doesn't have to say anything, not really. Her silence would be confirmation enough. But something in Emily snaps. She wants Victoria to know. She wants to stop her dead in her tracks, and see that all-knowing smirk on her face disappear.

"Guess who the godmother is." The comment is spoken quietly, but she knows Victoria hears.

The handcuffs clang as she walks closer to Emily, clear confusion on her face. "Why would I care who the godmother of your bastard is?"

"Oh, Victoria," She walks closer as well, her voice masking the fury with a tone of composure. "You underestimate all that you've missed. I think that you'll care a whole lot because Charlotte is the godmother."

Victoria abruptly stops, stunned. But Emily keeps on talking, on a roll and happy to finally let out the truth to someone. Well, some of it. She sees the lights go on in her head, the wheels starting to turn. Why on earth would Charlotte be the godmother? Unless…"And if you liked that, then you'll just _love_ the next part. Because the '_bastard_' I'm carrying happens to be _your_ grandchild. Jack isn't the father. Daniel is."

**Daniel**

The women with dyed blonde hair and crunchy curls stares at the camera, trying to seem distraught but not doing so very well underneath all the excessive cosmetics. The words 'Pregnant Billionaire Goes Missing from the Hamptons' glow at the bottom of the screen, causing Daniel's fingers to curl up in anger.

He sits at the edge of the leather ottoman, gazing relentlessly at the massive television. His ears sting as he listens to the irritating reporter go on about her. She stands at the very spot Emily evidently was abducted from.

"Sometime last Thursday evening, 26-year-old Emily Thorne went missing from the Hamptons. Roommates Nolan Ross (owner and founder of Nolcorp) and Aiden Mathis contacted the authorities' last night after they'd failed to reach Thorne within 72 hours."

"Detective Katherine Hawthorne, head investigator on the case believes that Thorne was abducted for ransom, though trade for her billions has not been commenced yet. Possibly the most frightening part of the situation is that she was last seen leaving the doctor's office right up the street from here, as she is twenty-eight weeks pregnant. Professionals state that safety this far into pregnancy is critical. Without proper care, both Emily Thorne and her unborn child could be in grave danger."

"Some may remember Emily as Daniel Grayson's (Grayson Global's new, young CEO) ex-fiancée. They began dating last summer, and had an unforgettable romance even when Grayson was falsely accused of murder. The two broke things off last January due to infidelity-"

Suddenly the screen goes black, cutting the news reporter off midsentence. The breath frozen between Daniel's tense lips is released, and he turns around to find his sister. She holds the remote, undoubtedly shaken up by their neighbor's disappearance as well.

"Daniel, stop." She whispers, running a hand through her unruly hair. "Nolan said that he'll call when they hear anything new. Stop watching the news, it's just going to upset you."

For the first time, Daniel realizes that his fists are trembling, spasms beginning to rock throughout his whole body. "I always drive that way," He says quietly to mostly himself, but Charlotte hears enough to understand. "On the way back from the city, I always pass the clinic. That's the road I take around 7:30, when she was taken."

"It's okay," Charlotte tries to comfort, sitting down beside him on the sofa. She gently rests her hand on his. "You didn't know; nobody could have."

He pulls his hand away, crying out in a voice significantly louder than before. "But I didn't on Thursday! I went to a bar after work and stayed there until well after midnight." His head falls into his hands, and he finishes in the most miserable voice she had ever heard him use. "What if I hadn't gone to the bar? Charlotte, what if I could have saved her?"

**Victoria**

Many emotions flash behind the cold, hard gaze she is now giving Emily. Her face changes from pale white to red, red to purple, purple to blue. Slowly, the color wheel makes its way back to fair and for once, the woman doesn't know what to say. Emily sees the change of facial expressions, hears the sharp intake of air. Confusion to the whole situation deteriorates and Victoria quickly puts on the role she knows best: the defensive bitch.

"What if I said I didn't believe you? It wouldn't be the first time you've lied to my family."

If they were back in the Hamptons, with Victoria sporting ironed pants and dyed roots, the conversation would have gone much different. Emily wouldn't have lost her cool, and Victoria would have come up with a smart, cruel-but-honest answer. They would anxiously have starred each other down, though nothing more would have come out of the exchange. Both women were too classy and sophisticated to act in such a manor.

But, things are different now. Although Victoria can still clearly be nasty and straightforward, she's lost her touch. Maybe being away from your kingdom can make a person forget about how it felt to be queen in the first place. Or maybe neither is quite in the mood for mind games today. Whatever it is, it has the same end result.

Rage.

"Your son knocked me up, and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it!" She's not yelling, not exactly. Her words are spit out with as much venom as she can muster, though, the usual calm and collected façade of Emily Thorne put temporally on pause. "Nothing you can say, or do, or think is going to change the fact that I am pregnant. And I'm staying that way for the next two months, so you better get used to it!"

Her words faintly echo against the cinderblock walls, causing a dramatic finale to Emily's fuming outlook. She raises her eyebrows, hands awkwardly on each hip, glaring at the lady who is still managing to worry her. Gradually, her racing heart reduces to a steady beat and she can breathe evenly once again, the rhythm coming to match the tick of a nearby clock. She takes a step backwards. Her stone still stature releases ever so slightly, and eventually she lets herself continue, as Victoria is for once completely shocked speechless.

Emily closes her eyes, waits for composure to finally arise, and speaks without yelling, screaming, or any tone above library tolerability. "It's the truth—and you know it is, Victoria. I can see it in your eyes. You're scared because deep down, you know that I'm not lying."

There is yet another moment of silence. Victoria opens her mouth in astonishment, ready to say_ 'That's not true_', however thinks better of it. There is no way for her to prove otherwise. She'd be able to figure out the paternity in half an hour tops through medical records or actually talking to Daniel himself. But, they're locked away somewhere with no access to such things as records or communication with loved ones.

She finds her voice, speaking softly for the first time. "So, are you and my son back together?" Her eyes find Emily's belly once again, trying to estimate how far along she is. It sticks out about six to seven inches from her usually flat abdomen, which means she's probably around seven months, Victoria guesses. Seven months decrease in her mind, and she comes up with December being the time she got pregnant. That would have been when Daniel first got out of jail…which means Miss Thorne could indeed be being honest.

For some reason, Emily quickly looks away, dodging the question, and she makes this her moment to pounce. Women like Victoria yearn for the moments where others show their vulnerability. When someone lets their wall down, and she can see all that they're hiding. In the split-second that Emily heard the question, and then viewed away, Victoria sees something. Fear, which is uncommon in the eyes of her son's past lover.

"Wait…" Victoria finds the strength that had been wiped away suddenly and uses it to her advantage. "Daniel is not the type to leave a woman he put in this situation, and if what you're saying is true, that means he doesn't know it's his. By her expression, Victoria knows she's correct, fueling her fire. "You're not together. Daniel doesn't know your carrying his child. And he may never, now that you've just been kidnapped for a reason far beyond either of us."

And just like that, Victoria Grayson is able to sum up Emily's last seven months in less than thirty words.

**Nolan**

"Let me get this straight," He utters impatiently, looking into her brown eyes with deep ambiguity. "You…want to tell Daniel…that he's the father?" Each word comes out slowly, reflecting his disbelief very clearly.

Charlotte stares at him, nodding her head anxiously, playing with a loose thread on the seam on her casual blue jeans. "Yes!" She exclaims, jumping up in hopeful excitement from the couch. "Nolan, he's going crazy back there!" She jerks a thumb over her shoulder, referring to her house. "He feels as if he could have stopped Emily from being taken!"

He shakes his head slowly, drumming his hand against the coffee table. Charlotte had come over a little under twenty minutes ago, face flushed, hair messy and blown from the wind. She must have run through the dark to get to Emily's house. Nolan can see dried tear marks on her cheeks.

His tone drops much softer than before, putting his hand on the crook of her elbow to pull Charlotte back down next to him. "Charlotte, I get that you want to help him." Her heads bobs enthusiastically, creases forming on her forehead in anticipation for his next words. "But you can't tell him that!"

She crossed her arms across her chest. "Why not?"

"Because…" Sometimes it is so hard to talk to teenagers. "It won't help anything. One, it isn't either of our news to deliver, and two it will make everything worse. Emily didn't want him to know, and we have to respect her wishes. If we tell him now, it will break his heart."

Charlotte thinks this over for a few minutes. "But maybe this will give him the sort of closure he needs!"

The couch cushions reflate once Nolan rises up, striding over to the fireplace. He picks up a picture frame, staring intensely at the photograph inside. It was taken on the beach, a sun was setting on the horizon, the main focal point being a man with his arm draped protectively around a women's small waist. She is turned, a smile plastered permanently on her face, each arm wrapped around the dark haired man's neck. Her head is tilted back in bliss with the rays of sunshine streaming onto her long blonde waves. Emily and Daniel both look genuinely happy, and Nolan remembers taking the picture.

He gently puts the picture back in its place. Looking at the stone of the hearth, he answers Charlotte's pleas, though it's not what she wants to hear. "Think about how Daniel feels now. Upset because the women he so obviously still loves is missing. Angry that he's so upset. Alone, his mother's dead and his fathers too busy running for politics. Now think about how worse it's going to be once he knows that it's his baby that Emily's carrying. He won't just be upset any longer, he'll be downright depressed. A piece of him will be gone. And we don't need to deal with that right now, especially if" His voice falls to a whisper. "something happen to either of them."

All goes silent, but Charlotte eventually promises not to tell Daniel about the baby. The way Nolan puts it; she'd be causing him more harm than good. He tells her that she'll be the first to know if there are any breaks in the case and sends her on her way.

The door swings shut, and he closes his eyes, groaning in despair. _Emily, you're causing a catastrophe._ Who knew she'd be able to hurt the heart of the Grayson's most by simply disappearing. Nolan mutely laughs bitterly to himself, face against the rough stone, dry sobs escaping his throat. Abruptly, he thinks of Aiden. He left last night, saying that he'd be able to do a much better job than the 'bloody' police ever would. _Ugh_. Now Nolan is left to deal with everyone alone, having to come up with yet more lies to feed the authorities. _What an asshole. _

Still facing the fireplace, he senses a figure behind him. He sniffs the air, recognizing the floral fragrance of granny smith apples and lilac.

"You handled that well." A women's voice speaks, and he turns to look at her. She has long dark brown hair; half of it tied back messily to spill over the collar of her leather jacket. Matching black combat boots cover her feet, her whole attire fiercely screaming 'Don't mess with me'.

He sighs, looking her over. Detective Katherine Hawthorne- Kate as everyone calls her- has a very pretty heart shaped face, full lips, and bright sapphire eyes that make her blue shirt look dull. Nolan can't help but feel grateful that she'd been assigned to the missing persons case rather than the beer-bellied cop he first meet a little under forty-eight hours ago. "Well, we don't need Daniel Grayson going completely insane."

She nods, her head dipping to look at the picture now behind him on the shelf. "You're not telling me the whole story, Nolan." She knots her toned arms across her chest, walking to admire the image as well. "If there is any chance of finding Emily I need to know everything, and there's something you're not telling me."

A lump rises in his throat, thinking about Emily's secret. Like the paternity of her child, it is hers' to tell, not his. Aiden had a point about the police, because calling them meant that they would dig through her whole life, searching for anything that would cause her disappearance to make sense. Though, he likes Kate Hawthorne, he knows he can't say anything about Amanda Clarke.

His eyes drill into hers, the way he was taught to lie. "Kate, I've told you everything."

She doesn't press the situation, but Nolan sees that the topic is not over. She walks over to the kitchen table, where a bunch of case files lay open. She flips through them for a moment, and then looks back up at him. "I know you said that he is harmless. But…he's a very important person. He holds a lot of power, has billions just laying around in bank accounts, and he fell in love with Emily Thorne. She leaves him, and then comes back a few months later hugely pregnant. He guesses that it's someone else's baby, though it's his. If he didn't know, then that gives him strong motive to hurt her."

He shakes his head quickly, completely against her theory. "Daniel is a lot of things…but an abductor is not one of them- especially when it comes to Emily. He'd never hurt her; he loves her."

The papers rustle again, and she picks up a page, studying in intently. A few minutes pass, and next Kate speaks without pause or negotiation. "I've seen people murdered for less. It looks like Grayson was linked with a murder last winter and is known to have a temper. I'm sorry Nolan, but I can't just let this go."

Dread fills him, because he knows what she's going to say before she even says it. "You're making a mistake."

She shrugs her shoulders, her expression fierce and clearly beyond argument. "Then we've ticked off one more person from the list of possibilities, because I'm bringing in Daniel Grayson to question."

**Emily**

_He wants us alive_, is all she can think about that night, or at least she guesses, since there are no windows or clocks in the room they are trapped in. Unintentionally, while she was having it out with Victoria, she'd picked up some key elements of the whole captive situation. From the second Victoria fell through the door, all her training had kicked in and things ordinary people wouldn't normally notice were picked up from the background.

Without question, Gordon Murphy is the person who took them. Emily remembers seeing him night before stabbing the syringe into her collar bone, and her shoulder still aches greatly, recalling the incident as well. Murphy had also been the one to push Victoria through the door. The condition is so…strange, though. An abductor who wants the abductees to see him? That is very uncommon.

She ponders the meaning for a little bit, only coming up his appearances as a way to scare them. Both women know of what he has done, and what he is still capable of. He wants them to know exactly who they were dealing with, to tell Victoria that he's no longer on her side, and have her question whether he ever truly was.

The way he pushed her away, it wasn't in a way to perpetually harm her, nevertheless. Show her whose boss, but not actually hurt her. Emily wonders if Victoria is in on it with Murphy, but pushes that though away. Stage her death, and then wait half a year to help her kidnap a pregnant neighbor? No…Victoria doesn't have that sort of patience. If she'd somehow found out of Emily's true identity, then she'd want to get the interrogating out of the way as quickly as possible. More so, she'd want to ruin her entire life by making in a big publicity scandal with news reporters, a police investigation, and Daniel becoming aware of it.

She is certain that the only Amanda Clarke Victoria knows of is still in the Hamptons, engaged to Jack Porter and working at an antique store. If Victoria is truly a victim, just as Emily herself is, then what would Gordon Murphy want with them? It's been too long of a time to ask for ransom, and the Grayson's had kept his secrets…

The whole thing is just so frustrating! Nothing exactly makes sense, and the closer Emily thinks she is to understanding why she's even here, the less she really knows.

Ever so slightly, she rises her head back up from the pillow, propping herself up on her elbow. She looks across the dark room, searching though the shadows until she vaguely makes out Victoria's petite outline underneath the sheets that are undoubtedly itchy for her also.

After their big confrontation, both had stopped talking all together and headed their separate ways- which was pretty difficult, considering they sleep all but three yards away from each other. Their steam was now burned off, and Emily seriously wants some answers.

"Victoria?" She whispers, all fight gone from her voice, knowing that she is also awake.

Silence. Then, Emily hears a sigh, and Victoria whispers back "_What?_"

There is a little attitude, but not as much as she'd expected. "How are you still alive?"

Again, she doesn't respond right away, probably mulling over the pros and cons of telling Emily the truth. In the end, apparently the up out weight the downs. "He…called me just before the plane was to take off, explaining that he had set bombs to go off in minutes. If I got off now, then I'd leave with my life. Without telling anybody else, I quietly excused myself. He met me at the tail of the airplane, and we watched it explode."

Emily soundlessly notices how Victoria excludes the information about how the government plane was transporting the witnesses and the investigator, along with any evidence that would prove the involvement of Grayson Global in the Flight 197 bombing and David Clarke's death. Convenient.

Frustration flares in her, thinking about how Victoria would rather save her own neck than try to tell anyone else. "So you went with him, no questions asked, and he brought you here?"

"No…after the plane detonated, he jabbed me with some kind of solution. I was knocked out instantly, and when I woke up here I was on this bed completely alone. A few hours later he came with food and when I asked him where I was and why I was here, he just smiled, saying I'd realize in time. It's been 195 days; see I keep track on the wall over there by ticking off every three times he brings a meal, and I still haven't realized why."

"Why did he take me?" Honestly, Emily has no idea. "What could he need with either of us?" That second part is more to show Victoria that she is still the innocent neighbor, clueless to the Grayson's evil.

She hears Victoria take in a fast, uneasy breath, most likely thinking about said evil. "I-I don't know."

Since its pitch black, there is no way of Victoria seeing Emily's eyes roll. Victoria always playing the victim can get _so_ old. They don't speak for a while, though their breathing isn't steady enough for either to have fallen asleep. She must have slept a long time, because Emily is not tired at all, and she can't help but keep talking. "Victoria?" She whispers again.

"Mhmm?"

"Why…" She begins, not exactly sure why she's even bringing this up. "Why don't you like me? How did you know that we wouldn't get married?"

Victoria doesn't speak again immediately, but after a few seconds she answers. "I guess there's no point in denying it. You were the only person I've ever seen Daniel love. Sure, he'd had girlfriends before, ones like Ashley who were pretty but only after his money. My family's money. But you were different. You had your own money, so it wasn't that you were after. You were smarter than the others, and that scared me. I always felt that he loved you more than you did him, though."

Her heart stops for a moment. Had Victoria truly seen through her the entire time? _Not the entire time. _Her relationship with Daniel started out as only a way to get close to the Grayson's. But, the part began to get easy and easier to play. And in the end, she really was in love with him. "Well, you were wrong."

"I know that know. I think that now I have had time to think about it, you made him grow up. You made him a better person than before."

Wow. That is possibly the nicest thing she's ever said to Emily.

**PLEASE REVIEW! (THEY MODIVATE MY UPDATES)**


	12. 12) Desperation

**Chapter 12: Desperation**

"Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape."  
-William S. Burroughs

**Nolan**

* * *

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_

His eyes immediately fly open, stunned by the abrupt termination of silence. A hand thoughtlessly shoots up from the covers, slapping the snooze button, and for a few still moments, he lies in bed, groggily collecting his thoughts. He rubs his head, memorizing the day and rolling over onto his side to see the time. 7:30 blinks at him brightly, causing spots of color to cloud his vision.

Sluggishly, he gets up, the mattress creaking under the instant change of weight. Nolan slumps to the bathroom, taking his shirt off in the process. Twenty minutes later, he is showered and clothed in khakis and a pale blue polo, eating a bowl of cereal at the island.

_It's gone stale_, he comments to himself, realizing that Emily had always been the one to go grocery shopping. A sigh escapes his lips, feeling sad for her. He knows she's in trouble—he can feel it. Emily wouldn't just leave, and she wouldn't put up with whoever thought of kidnapping her for ransom either. Under normal circumstances, she'd have escaped in twenty-four hours tops. That's how he knows this is different.

His eyes trace the early morning light that streams in through the window, still thinking about her—still missing her. 'Go grocery shopping_' _is added to the mental to-do list.

The rest of his expired breakfast is finished and the empty bowl is put in the sink. He grabs his car keys and steps out onto the back porch. A breeze rolls by, chilling the air so that it seems colder than it really is on this mid-July morning. He quickly leaves the veranda, striding down the steps, past the cigarette butts. A smile ghosts across his face for the smallest of a second as he imagines Emily's reaction to this. She'll surely be angry, so he doesn't stop to pick them up. Her anger gives him hope.

Once he's in the vehicle, he quickly backs out of the driveway and only drives for about a minute before pulling over again. He honks the horn twice, checks his watch, and then gets out, irritated. Jogging up the walkway, past all the manicured bushes and flowers, you'd never think that Victoria was even gone.

Nolan bangs on the door hard; tapping his toe furiously as a plump Hispanic woman opens the door, dressed in the attire of a housekeeper. "Yes?" She asks, clearly annoyed, but too committed to her job to say anything else.

"I'm looking for Daniel Grayson," He mutters, sliding his sunglasses farther down his nose. "He's due at the police station in-" Glancing at his watch again, he continues even more aggravated than before. "Twenty-five minutes!"

The woman looks as if she's about to reply, but Nolan has no time for that. He pushes past her and all but runs through the house, coming out to the pool. Still, he keeps up a steady pace until reaching the house connected. He bangs on the door even louder than before, losing his patience and finally just throwing it open.

The staggering stench of alcohol consumes the room, instantly clinging to Nolan's clothes. He growls, disgusted with Daniel, while shaking his head to get rid of the god forsaken stink. As he steps forward, there is a nasty crunch of glass underneath his foot, and he lifts his leg to see a half-empty bottle of vodka. Looking around, he sees many matching containers littering the pool house.

"Son of a bitch," He mutters under his breath, making his way to the bedroom, where Daniel lays fully dressed on the bed, passed out with his mouth hanging open distastefully. Irritation boils up inside him, and he walks swiftly to the nearest—what is it this time? A beer can? Where did he even have access to so many alcoholic beverages? Within five seconds, Nolan is back at the side of the bed, pouring the sour liquid over Daniels unconscious head.

He stirs, twitching slightly with each eye flickering open, but nothing exceptional happens.

Heatedly, Nolan yanks Daniel up from the bed. "Grayson, you have got to be kidding me! You get called in for a police investigation, and I'm the stuck getting your drunken ass out of bed!" He grumbles, dragging the dense body to the bathtub.

Daniel falls face first onto the tub, muttering something incoherent. Without second thought, Nolan turns on the faucet, letting an icy stream rain down. Almost instantaneously, the bastard moves, sitting up straight and coughing loudly. It takes a few seconds for him to process what's going on as he whips his head from side to side, rubbing his eyes dazedly. But he must somehow see through the thick smog of the hangover he is now carrying, because he becomes furious. "What the HELL!?" He yells, too confused to even look in Nolan's direction, his arms flying around the water like an overexcited toddler.

A sigh escapes his lips as he thinks '_at least he's up'. _The faucet dies down, and Daniel lays there for a moment, spluttering out the unexpected fluid clogging his lungs. Nolan grabs a large clump of the dark, damp hair, standing up from his original crouch, and bringing Daniel forcefully as well.

Nolan pushes his face close to his, and speaks in a tone very unlike his usual. "My best friend is missing, the damned police are no closer to finding her as they were when I called, and now I have to deal with you! So help me- if you're not showered, dressed, and smelling of anything other than stale beer in ten minutes…!" His threat trails off as he gets up and leaves the premises in a tidal wave of rage.

Once back in the confinements of his car, his balled up fists beat against the steering wheel, as if all his worries will disappear by that angry action. Closing his eyes, he tries to think happy thoughts and cool down. Just as he begins tracing a finger along the shiny car logo, there is a slam. Nolan looks up to see Daniel jogging across the lawn, dressed in fresh clothes and dark sunglasses. He slides into the passenger seat, and Nolan puts the key in the ignition, murmuring "Finally,"

Each of his eyes flicker to the left to look at Nolan for an instant, the clear frustration most likely aimed towards himself more than anyone else. "I'd say I was sorry, except I'm not."

Those words don't surprise Nolan in the slightest. He continues looking through the windshield, concentrating hard on the early traffic. "Couldn't you at least have shaved?" He asks, eying the stubble beginning to form on Daniel's face. "I mean, you already have motive to kidnap her. There's no reason to now_ look_ like a criminal."

Daniel rolls his eyes. "Why does it even matter? I'm innocent. They're not going to lock me up for something they have no proof I did. An unshaven face won't change anything. This entire thing is completely ridiculous."

The corners of Nolan's lips unexpectedly turn up for a mere second, though gone before anyone can see. He can't agree more.

* * *

**Emily**

She stares anxiously at the reflection shining back from the cracked mirror. There is only one light filling the cramped space, yellowing the already moldy walls, making it difficult to see properly. Emily turns to the side, lifting up her wrinkled shirt to rest a hand lightly on her stomach. _Come on, baby._ She thinks fiercely. _Move._

Abruptly, there is an angry knocking on the door. She looks up in surprise, letting the fabric fall back into place. "One second!" She calls, spinning away from the mirror.

"Emily?" A high pitched voice rings out. "You've been in there for quite a long time!" That is Victoria's way of saying 'Get the hell out!'. Ever since their heart-to-heart a few nights back, things had been different. Victoria really seems to be making an effort with Emily; either because she happens to be carrying the woman's grandchild or since they're living together in close quarters for who knows how long, she's not sure. But Victoria has definitely been acting nicer.

And she's not exactly sure what to make of it.

Emily pulls the door open, pushing past Victoria as quickly as possible. The handcuffs clang loudly as she drags them across the metal bar behind her. She waits for the sound of the bathroom door swinging shut before walking the rest of the way to the bed. Curling up into a ball, her head slides down the pillow, and she puts her ear as close as she can to her enormous abdomen.

"Baby," She whispers, lightly tracing the tips of her fingers up and down her belly button. "You need to kick. Please-" Her voice now sounds hopeless. "I know you're okay. You just have to show me, dammit!"

Emotion inevitably wells up inside her, vision blurring from the volcano of tears beginning to erupt. It feels as if a warm, yet rough hand had wrapped around her heart and was squeezing softly, disturbing her from the inside out. Emily had never felt something so strong before.

Moans of pain uncontrollably escape her throat, and she quickly clamps her free hand hard over her mouth. Her eyes glance around the room. Victoria is now out of the lavatory and sitting on the couch, casually reading a book, like she does most days. Time passes strangely here, and the only way to measure it is by meals. Like she'd said before, every three trays of tasteless food is equivalent to one day. Emily has been here for twelve, although unconscious for six of them.

And she hasn't felt the baby move in more than four. More than a day, which is longer than it's ever gone without kicking, or at least shifting in position.

"Is…everything okay?" Victoria quietly asks, not looking up from her book. "You seem upset."

"I'm fine." Emily replies hoarsely without hesitation. She rolls over so that her back is to Victoria and she's facing the wall. Her eyes begin to follow the paint cracks as she bends her knees to her chest, continuing to sob silent tears. "Leave me alone."

There is a release of air from the cushions when Victoria stands, wiping her hands on each thigh. She hears her stride a few feet and uncertainly sit on the edge of Emily's bed. "Um…" She starts awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to say. Being nice is new to her, especially when the kindness is aimed towards Emily. "I know something's wrong."

"_I said I'm fine_." She snaps as if she's a teenage girl, still looking away, not wanting anyone to see the puffiness of her eyes.

"Okay…" Victoria trails off. She seems as if she's ready to leave, when one last thought must come to her. "Do you know what you're having?"

The water spilling down Emily's cheeks freezes, caught off guard by the question. Of course she is asking about the sex of the baby. "No." She is going to leave it at that, but then decides to add more. "I want it to be a surprise."

"But surely you have an idea. I remember when I was pregnant the first time, I didn't know but I still guessed." She presses, trying to keep Emily talking as long as possible.

She pauses, not sure what to say. Yes, she does have a guess. "At the beginning, I never really thought about the _baby_ aspect. I didn't think about cribs and diapers, but more getting bigger and throwing up. It wasn't until around six months that I started picturing it as a he or she, and for some reason the image is always changing. Sometimes I see a boy with brown hair and brown eyes" —like Daniel— "and other times I see a girl."

"What do you see now?"

She chews on her lip. "A boy, I guess. Though, tomorrow it will probably be a girl."

"Do you have any names picked out yet?"

Slowly, she rolls over onto her side so that she is looking at Victoria through the absence of light, her eyes gleaming slightly. "Kind of…" She admits. "I know I want a family name. For a boy, I like Daniel—like his father. We could call him Danny, which would be really cute."

A smile creeps onto Victoria's face. "That's what we used to call him when he was a kid."

She grins as well, the next part coming out before she can think of stopping it. "I also like David. It's not it my family or anything-" She immediately adds at the surprised, almost suspicious look Victoria has. "But it's just a name I've always liked."

An uncomfortable cough comes out of Victoria's mouth. "David Grayson has a certain ring to it."

"Or David Thorne." Emily adds.

She looks away for a second. "What about for a girl?"

"My mother's name was Caroline," Well, almost. Her mother's name is Kara. "Everyone called her Cara, and I always liked that."

"It's a beautiful name." Victoria responds simply. She must not remember Kara Wilkins.

They remain quiet after that until unexpectedly, Emily begins crying again. The sobs are much louder than before, and a completely unavoidable topic of conversation. There is no way that Emily is able to hide them, not that she's thinking much of anything but her baby's health. "The baby hasn't moved it two days!" She wails, latching onto Victoria's hand in desperation. "I usually feel it kick after eating or moving around a lot, but it hasn't moved at all!"

Honest concern fills Victoria's eyes.

"Something's wrong, Victoria. I haven't been able to take my prenatal vitamins, and I'm really afraid something's happened to the baby…" She continues to cry into her pillow, the joy of the conversation before promptly gone. What did it matter what the baby's name would be if she couldn't even make it to September 3rd—the official due date?

A light hand goes to Emily's shoulder, and she doesn't even have enough energy to push it away. She's beyond caring, really. _Why is it that I fail at everything I'm supposed to do? I wasn't a good daughter; my father died thinking I hated him. I wasn't a good fiancée; I cheated him. I wasn't even a good revenge seeker, as I fell in love and got knocked up by the enemy. _

_And now I've killed my baby._

She flinches at her own views. It's the first time she's actually thought them out in that order, but what's the point in lying to yourself? After all, you're the only one who gets hurt in such a dilemma.

"Oh, Emily," The words flow from Victoria's lips in a tone Emily has never heard before. She sounds sincerely upset. "I'm sure the baby's okay."

"But how can I know? We're trapped down here!"

Victoria stands back up from the bed, and starts pacing intently. Emily holds back the cries while her eyes follow the woman walk back and forth in front of her. Back and forth. Back and forth. A few seconds go by, then minutes. She stops a couple times, as if to say something, but then starts walking once again. It's been half an hour before finally she stops for good and looks at Emily.

"I think I have a plan."

* * *

**Daniel**

Detective Katherine Hawthorne stares menacingly at him from across the table, appearing well at ease with the whole situation. She has most likely interrogated dozens of people this year alone, Daniel guesses, and he is no exception.

Her deep, blue eyes look at him intently as she inclines back in her chair, folding each arm across her chest. "Emily Thorne, your fiancée, cheats on you, moves away, and then comes back months later hugely pregnant. And you mean to tell me it didn't upset you in the _slightest_?"

Daniel looks to the lawyer who sits to the right of him. He shakes his head, meaning he doesn't technically have to answer the question. _Screw it_. "Of course I was upset. But I'd never harm her because of it."

Hawthorne flips through some papers on the table, intently skimming them over. Suddenly abandoning the material, she leans onto the table, resting her elbows a few feet away from his chest. "See, Mr. Grayson-"

It hadn't bothered him before, but for some reason it does now. When Daniel thinks of 'Mr. Grayson', he thinks of the bastard also known as his father. Money, infidelity, suits always perfectly pressed, not a hair out of place…and of course scandals. He does not want to be thought of like that. "Call me Daniel."

"Okay…_Daniel_." She curls a piece of dark hair behind her ear—the first normal human characteristic he's seen from her all day. "See, I don't know you. I don't know if what you're telling me is the truth. But what I _do _know is that I smell alcohol on your breath."

His fists unintentionally ball up into fists as the previous night comes flooding back in an unpleasant blur. A few days prior, Nolan had called to inform him that the police were requesting an interrogation. Responding to the situation like any other heartbroken man; he slept for eighteen hours straight, threw out his razor when it accidently fell on his foot one morning, and went on an extreme drinking binge. When the local bar threw him out, Daniel then drunkenly stumbled into the closest liquor store, bought as much as his arms could carry, and then _drank_ as much as his body could sustain.

Quite frankly, it's a miracle he's still alive.

He shrugs his shoulders once. "Maybe I had a few drinks."

An incredulous laugh leaks from the detective's mouth, the humor in Daniels terrible excuse too much for her to mask. "_Wow_…" She pronounces the word with extreme sarcasm, the usual professionalism temporarily lost. "Are you always that bad a liar? How do you even manage in your line of occupation? I thought business men were supposed to be professional bullshitters…"

His jaw nearly drops to the floor at that. Nobody has ever spoken to him that way before, especially an investigator. Sure, the hangover had started to drift away over the past few hours, but there is no hiding the smell of it. Now he can finally think clearly—and that's precisely the problem. Alcohol intoxicates the mind, numbing the pain for a few short hours so it's enough to for him to bear.

"I-I" He stutters, not sure what to say.

"Exactly," Kate says with a smirk. "And all alcohol does is intensify feelings you already have. Let's say you're angry, add in a few drinks, and the next thing you know you're in an all-out rage. You can't think properly, and all you feel is the betrayal from Emily. Now, where were you on Thursday, July 12 between 4 pm and 2 am?"

_This isn't good!_ Daniel screams at himself. Thursday night, he'd left work early to go to a bar down the street.

Seeing that she has struck a chord, she continues on. "You were out drinking weren't you? I can tell—and it would be a lot easier if you admitted it."

"Fine!" He confesses, slightly rising in his seat. "I was at a bar! But that doesn't mean I sought her out and took her!"

She purses her lips, looking down again at the files in front of her. "No, you're right. It's all too circumstantial. Too many if's and but's, and no hard evidence. Which bar was it, though?"

He tells the name of the bar and address, and she writes them down as well. The pen continues to scratch hostilely against the paper, and everything is silent. Daniel rubs the sweat from his hands onto his dress pants, unsuccessfully trying to take his mind of off of the situation. When he tilts his eyes to look at the lawyer—Richard he believes his name to be—he finds him quickly scribbling words down on official looking documents also.

I chorus of pens scratch out judgments of him, and he can't help feeling self-conscious. Who the hell are they to analyze his past relationship? As if he doesn't feel terrible enough as it is…

"Okay," Hawthorne finally speaks, looking up at him. "Like I said—this is too indirect for me. Let's forget about the drinking issues. They aren't even a big deal compared to the fact that you were the prime suspect in a murder trial just last winter."

His eyes snap shut instantly. _Of course_—of course she would bring up past transgressions, even ones where he was found completely innocent. Eyes still closed, he thinks severely about his former friend. Tyler Barrol…if there is one harmless way to describe him, it is to say he was a very skilled actor. He was polite, charming, and able to worm his way into the Grayson's lives for most of the previous summer. However, he was also very manipulative and—when he felt he held all the cards—he revealed a condescending and sometimes violent side of his nature. He was even willing to attempt murder in order to get what he wanted and had a tendency to call people degrading names, calling Emily a bitch and a slut and nicknaming Conrad 'Conny'. Tyler also liked to gloat, taunting Nolan when he outsmarted him and asking how it felt to be the dumbest person in the room.

It was revealed that he was on medication, and according to his brother, he was very unpredictable without it. This was shown to be true when he held Emily, the entire Grayson family, Jack, and Amanda at gunpoint during Daniel's birthday party. In other words; one of Daniels only ever close friends ended up being a raging lunatic. Though he had enough reason to, he was not the one at hand for Tyler's demise. "I was found innocent." He simply says.

"Still, you shot a man. Who knows what else you're capable of?"

Before Daniel can explain, Richard intervenes at full volume. "Objection! You are harassing my client with incidents from the past! Yes, Daniel Grayson did shoot Tyler Barrol, but it was pure self-defense. He didn't kill anyone, and was found not guilty. Lee Moran killed Mr. Barrol—end of story. If you don't mind, I'd like to get back to the reason we're here." His body falls into the back of the seat, and he shakes his head in disgust. "Emily Thorne, remember?"

Kate's hands come up in surrender. "I admit that last part was out of line. I was just trying to get to the part that had everyone thinking it was you who killed him. Like in this situation, he had done things to you. Made you mad. And it says right here," She jabs the papers with her pointer finger dramatically. "That you have issues with containing your anger."

Daniel watches her eyebrows raise, daring him to respond. But, what is there to say? His mouth remains shut, too bewildered with everything. He'd walked in here earlier confident that things would end in his favor. Now, though, he isn't so sure.

* * *

**Katherine**

She takes the stack of papers and reads through them again. They are Daniel Grayson's records, naming all of his history with the law. Sure, there were normal things that any teenager does, like smashing mailboxes in the night and throwing loud party's that involved underage drinking. There was even something about a getting in a car accident with a waitress while under the influence.

Those two incidents, plus the stench of alcohol on his breath was what brought her to the assumption of the drinking problem. Then, farther down the list was the whole Tyler Barrol trial, which she just couldn't ignore. An angry alcoholic isn't exactly a familiar quality of someone innocent.

Still, with both of these revelations, Kate hasn't made a lot of progress. Yes, she was able to get an alibi for the night of Emily Thorne's disappearance, and she'd go to the bar to see if he was indeed there and what time he left, but that wouldn't help her now. Her last approaches clearly weren't working, as all the things she was spitting out at him she already knew. She thinks for a few uncomfortable minutes, only turning her attention back to Daniel when she comes up with on final idea.

"Daniel Grayson, did you abduct Emily Thorne?" Straightforward and personal.

"Like I've been trying to tell you the entire time, no I did not!"

Good. They are getting somewhere. "People have kidnapped for less—hell, people have _killed _for less. I know if _my_ fiancée cheated on me, dumped me, and then came back on my turf in another relationship, I'd want to hurt them as much as they'd hurt me."

Slowly, she sees her words sink into him. Yes, he was hurt. Yes, he was angry. Yes, he drank a lot. And yes, he has a past of anger. Kate can see many different emotions cross his features as he realizes what she's saying is true. This is the part where she expects him to break down, maybe even cry, admitting that he hired someone to kidnap her.

She is very surprised when that does not happen.

"No," He whispers. "I don't care what you would have done in the situation. When you…_feel_ the way I felt when I'm around her, then you'll understand. I loved her—I really did. And when you love someone, you do whatever makes them happy, even if it's not what makes _you_ happy." The words spill from his mouth effortlessly, as if it's the easiest thing to say. As if it's true. "I let her go, because that's what she wanted."

Katherine Hawthorne had never heard someone speak that way before. Not to her, and certainly not about her. She'd grown up with a step father who hit her mother, and then when old enough—boyfriends, who did the same thing to her. That's why she went into the criminal field, wanting to be the one for once who was strong. To her, men in general had become a tiring subject. You can't trust them, and she'd given up on finding anyone a long time ago.

That's why hearing Daniel speak that way about Emily Thorne left her stunned. Without even realizing it, he had continues to talk, and she quickly tunes back in to hear more.

"…in past relationships, I always questioned if the girls I dated were only with me because of my family. There's a lot of money and honor behind the Grayson name, and I could never be sure if they loved _me_. But with Emily…I never had to guess. She made it clear she didn't agree with all of the things my family did, and she had money of her own. She wasn't in it for that. To her, I was just Daniel, not Daniel Grayson; CEO of Grayson Global."

Consumed with what he's saying, Kate uncontrollably states exactly what she's thinking. "You loved her. You _still _do."

* * *

**Daniel**

Embarrassment immediately fills him as he understands he's said too much. He turns his head to the east wall, gazing at the two-way mirror. Nolan is without a doubt behind the glass, diligently listening in on the interrogation. Oh, God. He has heard everything.

Looking away from the glass, he gives a quick nod to Kate. The detective slides up in her seat, crossing her legs, and then uncrossing them again apprehensively. "Oh…Daniel…" She affectionately reaches a hand to his.

He quickly snatches his hand away, astonished by the sudden mood change. So what, now she felt bad for him? "Don't try to seem like you pity me now, when just a few minutes ago you were accusing me of kidnapping her!"

Kate seems to comprehend what she's doing, and takes her outstretched hand back as well. "I'm sorry, that was very unprofessional-"

"Don't be sorry." Irritation flashes through him as his thinks again of the pity. "You get to go home tonight to a family that loves you. You won't remember me, or the sorrow you pledged, because you don't mean it. This is just your job—just another case. Your life isn't being picked to pieces by people who look at you like you're a criminal because the women you love has gone missing. And you know what the very worst part is?"

She wears a shocked expression, her eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar. Her head shakes, somewhat scared to ask.

Daniel slumps down on the table, devastated with himself. He shouldn't be yelling at her, he knows it. It isn't fair, and probably isn't helping his cause at all. But at the moment, he doesn't care. It just feels good to finally let the truth out to someone. "I drove her away." He sobs dryly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was turning into exactly what she hated—my family. I chose them over her, and she retaliated by cheating. We'd still be together if it wasn't for me, maybe we'd even be married. And if we were she wouldn't be pregnant, so she wouldn't have been at the clinic in the first place!"

Despite his past action, he grabs Detective Hawthorne's arms with both his hands; not in a rough way, but more in desperation. "So maybe you should lock me up, because it _is_ my fault."

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_Sorry its been so long since I last updated. Don't worry, I haven't given up on the story. I don't know why but this chapter was kinda difficult to write, especially Daniels part in the interrogation room. I knew there were a lot of things I wanted to put in there but the whole placement part was hard. Anyway, I finally finished and I want to know what everyone thinks! _**

**_Please that the names aren't final, they're just what Emily's been thinking if she goes the family route. _**

**_Also, I really want to know what everyone thought about the season finale a few weeks ago! I know I was freaking out (and not in a good way!). Honestly, Declan's death was completely pointless to me and very vague...and then there was the whole initiative thing being fake and just a side business to Conrad (I never really understood the point of to begin with)...and then of course Emily telling Jack the truth..._**

**_Just tell me what you thought, and what you think will happen! I need to feedback from other Revenge fans!_**

**_xoxox_**

**_secretlife1201_**

**_ p.s. I will make everyone a deal. If I get up to 450 reviews, then I'll update (which really isn't a big deal considering that I write complete chapters that of 5000+ words and all I'm asking for is a review from most of the people who read this!)_**


	13. 13) Revenge

**Chapter 13: Revenge**

"Before you set out for revenge, be sure to dig two graves."

-Chinese Proverb

* * *

**Emily**

Her hands go to her head, reaching up to touch the hair that lays matted, greasy, and completely full of knots. Ignoring the mess, she combs diligently though the golden strands, her fingers searching for the familiar warm metal. Eventually, she finds the overlooked bobby pin and rips it out as quickly as possible.

Emily brings the pin close to her face, pulling away the plastic covering. "I can't believe I forgot I was wearing one of these." She mutters to Victoria, who stands curiously behind her, staring fixedly over her shoulder.

"How do you know how to do this again?"

Without looking up, Emily precedes to bend the end that had been covered and puts it into the keyhole. "Oh…" She nonchalantly thinks back to her time as a juvenile delinquent. "Everyone knew how to jimmy a lock while in Allenwood." Her fingers pinch around the metal, bending it the other way so that she's left with an angle shaped almost like a tiny shepherds staff. The hooked end goes back into the hole and she bends it down, releasing the latch that opens the jaws of the handcuffs.

"_Wow_," Victoria gasps, thoroughly impressed by Emily's handiwork. To be honest, Emily herself is a little surprised—it's been years since she picked a lock with a bobby pin.

Hastily, she releases Victoria from the restraints, letting out a sigh of relief. Each immediately begins rubbing their aching wrists, tracing a finger over the red creases that had slowly started scarring. It feels so good to be free from those damn handcuffs, and though it's only been a few days, it seems like decades. If she could, Emily would do a cartwheel right about now in excitement, but then the unnerving truth sets in—they're no way near freedom.

Step one in Victoria's plan: Ditch the handcuffs—_check._

She pats her belly, half expecting the familiar kick back. But of course, no response comes. _Hold on baby. Just a little longer._ "Now what?"

Victoria's head moves back and forth, as if wondering the same thing. "Okay. This is what we know; were locked somewhere. Probably a basement. But there's an elevator. What kind of building has an elevator in it?"

Emily paces a few feet, just as Victoria had done a couple of hours prior. Normal houses just don't have elevators. "Hotels…hospitals…offices…schools," She is merely thinking out loud, saying the first things that pop into her head. "But we have no way of _really_ knowing where we are."

"We'll figure that out later." Victoria walks to the closest wall, bending down to touch the bottom where it meets the shaggy carpet. Her fingers curl around the decaying wood trim, briefly glancing up to look at Emily. "Get down here and help me!"

Without question, she stoops down as well, helping Victoria to pull the thick strip away from the wall (which, considering the fact that it's two women—one almost eight months pregnant and the other well over fifty in age, it's quite impressive). They stand up, both holding an end, and Victoria directs them to the doors of the elevators. Confused, Emily stops. "…what…?" This was the big plan? Going up the elevator with a rotting piece of wood as their only source of protection?

Victoria ignores Emily's query. Instead, she releases the wood, letting it land with a soft _thud_. "Emily, I need you to keep holding the wood. I'll tell you when I need your help." She continues to get closer to the huge steel doors until her hands are touching it's cool surface. Wasting no time at all, she digs her fingers into the crease, just as she'd done with the trim. Emily can't help thinking about how bad Victoria's nails will be damaged after today, and how the old Victoria would never have done such a thing. As a matter of fact, the old Victoria would not even be helping her.

"Okay, I need the wood now!" Emily is jerked out of her thoughts and quickly hands over the wall trim. A yawn unexpectedly escapes her mouth, and Victoria looks back at her with a grim smile. "Didn't you get any sleep?"

No. Emily had gotten next to no sleep in her entire visit—well, you can't call it a 'visit' when she's being held here against her will. Anyway, she hadn't been getting much sleep as the baby was kicking like crazy the first night, and the next she'd been too afraid Victoria would try to kill her if she as much as closed an eye. The third night was the worst, though, because that was when she'd kept herself up crying over fear for the baby. Then, last night was of course over giddiness for Victoria's upcoming plan.

"Have you?" She replies, waving off the question. If she was feeling this bad, she can't even imagine how Victoria was after months of being held captive.

"I'm just happy to be alive."

Shocked by the reply, Emily is about to ask for more, when what Victoria is actually doing abruptly registers. "You're trying to push the doors open?"

"'Trying' being the key word,"

_That's my cue. _She rushes to stand behind Victoria to grab onto the piece sticking out from under her arm. Together, then push with all their power to prop the doors open by tilting the wood to the side. It's hard to explain, but finally they get the doors open a few feet.

"Cover me!" Victoria lets go of the trim, leaving a tremendous amount of weight for Emily to make up. Her lungs tighten within her chest as she holds her breath, terrified that even the slightest lapse of strength will crush Victoria who now stands between the two barriers. She puts both of her arms out horizontally, shoving the doors into their rightful places. Victoria's back is to Emily now, but she can hear the strangled voice clearly. The doors must weigh over a hundred pounds combined like that. It's not exactly an easy job. "It's dark, but the drop is only a few feet. You can manage."

Emily is still for a moment, trying to figure out what Victoria is asking her to do. Her body understands, though, and she is almost guided to sit underneath her outstretched arm. It doesn't look like a few feet, and there isn't much light either, but now isn't the time to argue. She swings her legs into the hole, and propels herself off of the ground silently. The air whips past her, and the next thing she knows, her legs are meeting the cracked tile.

The hole is over six feet deep. Instantly, an ache begins in her ankles, but she ignores the discomfort easily. She stars at Victoria, seeing the sweat swelter on her face, a crease forming on her forehead. Emily's hand cups, beckoning her to jump down beside her. Her mouth forms the words, but before any sound can escape her cracked lips, they both snap their head to look above them.

_Shit, shit, SHIT!_ "Come on!" She yells, louder then she should, fear ranking above rationalism. They can hear the elevator moving, Gordon Murphy getting closer and closer to them with each passing moment.

Emily would like to say she knows Victoria Grayson pretty well. In her training with Takeda, she'd been forced to learn everything there was to know; early life, birthday, family, friends, foes. Her personality is manipulative, cold, and she rarely displays her true feelings. Emily knows the women's favorite desert, where she'd grown up, even her net worth for god sakes! In spite of all her training, though, nothing could have prepared her for what happens next.

Alarm fills Victoria's dark eyes as she looks down on Emily, clear panic taking over her whole demeanor. "There's an air vent down there." She whispers, pointing downwards with a finger. "If you crawl through it for a few hundred feet you should reach an opening."

_What the hell is she doing?_ "But Victoria-"

"Go!" She mouths, stepping back. "Go!" Something else is said, but in all the commotion, Victoria's final words are lost. The doors slam shut deafeningly, cutting off the last source of light. And Emily is trapped in the dark, the only thing to hear being the ominous sound of the elevator coming down on her.

* * *

**Nolan**

"If I remember correctly," A genuine grin stretches across his face, feeling almost foreign after more than a week of sorrow. "You owe me a drink."

Katherine's long, dark waves tremor as she shakes her head back and forth, although the smile now creeping onto her face immediately contradicts the action. Nolan watches her look out at the busy five o'clock traffic, thinking about how pretty she looks with the sun glinting off her features. And how happy he is he made a bet with her about Daniel Grayson's innocence.

They'd just spent the last hour asking around at the bar Daniel had claimed to be at the night of Emily's disappearance. To Kate's dismay, his alibi checked out. Just as both men had been saying from the very beginning.

"Nothing gets past you does it, Sherlock?" She asks, laughing sarcastically, whipping her head from side to side before crossing over the busy street. Horns honk irritatingly from behind them.

Nolan sticks his thumbs into each of his jeans pockets; a casual alteration to his normal attire. According to the detective, he couldn't come along for questioning dressed like a model for Ralph Lauren. He took the remark as compliment, but apparently it wasn't supposed to be since she had then gone on to say he'd probably end up getting shot. By whom had been his following question.

Since road traffic was so bad this time of day, they'd decided to walk the fifteen blocks it would take to get to the bar, so they now tread swiftly back to the FBI building. Kate strides with purpose; Nolan is just trying to keep up. "Does that make you Watson? Or Irene Adler? Perhaps Moriarty?"

She stops for an instant to give him a look. "Moriarty, definitely. I _am_ smarter then you."

He scoffs. Part of him had wanted her to say Irene Adler. "There is no way Moriarty is smarter than Sherlock Holmes."

They start striding down the sidewalk once again. "Agree to disagree?"

"Fine." Neither talks for a while as they make their way to Twenty-Sixth Street. Then, he thinks of why the conversation even started. "Still, though, I'm surprised that you thought he was guilty. Even after his give declaration of love in the interrogation room. Remember how you affectionately touched him afterwards?"

He smirks at the strange encounter the day before. To be honest, the whole thing felt a little too much like a bad Nicholas Sparks book—two people loving each other but neither having the guts to tell the other because they thought the attraction was one-sided. Add in an unplanned pregnancy, and you've got a full blown chick flick. When exactly did his life change from a thriller to a romantic comedy? He's the only one finding humor in all of this, though.

"Oh, shut up!" Kate says in an annoyed tone, one side of her mouth pulling up to show she's not actually angry.

"I never would have pegged you as a romantic."

Her cheeks inflame a soft crimson, an action very much unlike her. "Because I'm _not_!"

"Sure." Still smiling, he turns to look at her. "So, how about that drink?"

She pretends to think about that for a moment, a finger coming up to tap her chin. "What day is it again?"

"Wednesday…" He says slowly, trying not to think about how it's been almost a week since Emily went missing.

"Sorry, I can't tonight." Something seems to flicker across her face—something he doesn't understand. An expression caught between dread and happiness, which sounds strange but is true.

Suddenly, Kate's phone is vibrating before he can ask her to elaborate. She looks down at the caller ID, and Nolan catches a glimpse of the name 'Adam'. After giving him an apologetic look and a raised pointer finger, she steps away to stand under the black and white stripped cabana of a nearby café. He stays out on the pavement, listening to the passing cars and trying his best not to eavesdrop on Kate's conversation—though, it does seem like she's having an argument.

He'd never asked for information on her personal life. They'd known each other for what—five days? It felt inappropriate since they were barely even acquaintances, let alone friends. In their short time together, however, he can't deny he had grown an attraction towards her. She is smart, witty, sincerely seems to enjoy what she does for a living, and let's not forget beautiful with that long mahogany hair and piecing blue eyes. There is no wedding ring, so he'd just assumed…

He feels ridiculous now for developing a crush on someone who was constantly insulting and questioning his intelligence. Kate is clearly with someone. _Adam. _God, he already hated him.

In about the time he has both confessed and withdrawn the attraction in his head, she has ended her phone call, and on a rather sour note. The detective has an angry scowl over her brow, and Nolan can't help but feel satisfied at her clear displeasure towards _Adam_. "Everything okay?" He asks, hiding his happiness with a tone of innocent curiosity.

She huffs, beginning to walk again. "It's nothing. But I really need to get home."

They jog the rest of the way back to her work.

* * *

**Emily**

Her heart beats loudly from inside her chest, pulsing like a never-ending alarm clock throughout her whole entire head. She can almost hear the throbbing as if it's echoing off the metal, giving away her exact location within the air vents. Emily has been crawling through the confined space for some time now, her elbows rubbed raw to show for it. Fear for her baby's life is what keeps her moving instead of going back to help Victoria. Still, Victoria's earlier actions fill her mind.

Why. _Why on earth did she do that?_ It is very rare—so rare that nobody can even remember the last time it happened—for Victoria Grayson to sacrifice herself for someone, nevertheless Emily Thorne! Emily, who she has hated with a burning passion from the moment they crossed paths. Emily, who will never be good enough for her son. Emily, who is the long lost daughter of the man she framed all those years ago.

God, it is all just so damn confusing! It's easy to hate the person who ruined your life. It's easy to seek revenge when you have nothing else to lose. It's even easy to play with an innocent man's emotions when you've tricked yourself into thinking that someone can be held accountable for their family's past wrongdoings. It's not until you begin interrogating yourself that things get hard. Could someone with a heart of ice one day melt to the good side? Or is the enemy yet again only manipulating you into thinking so?

Sweat beads across her brow as she squirms through the ducts, a hand coming up to wipe away the warm perspiration. The tunnel is very small; measuring at about sixteen inches wide and eighteen inches tall. Considering her stomach alone reaches more than half a foot out, Emily's not exactly having an easy time maneuvering through the labyrinth. And to somehow make things worse, there is no air ventilating the dust, rust, and grime she blindingly crawls through. If she wasn't in a life or death situation, she'd be furious by this point.

She circles a corner—which are always the hardest to operate around—and almost shrieks out in joy. About three yards away, sunlight can be seen filtering in through the slotted titanium door, illuminating a path to freedom. Faster than before, she painstakingly struggles the rest of the way until her hands are touching the door. Emily crosses her fingers that it isn't locked, and for once, things actually go her way.

Sucking in her abs, she does her best not to knock her stomach against the edges of the vent. The baby is already in a delicate state as it is. She pushes through the small entryway, holding her breath, falling out head first. The drop isn't bad at all, and she lying on a pile of dead leaves within seconds. She's on some kind of forest floor, looking up at the light peeking through the leafy green branches

Though she's technically in a hurry, Emily stays down longer than necessary. Eye's suddenly closed, she breathes heavily as the adrenaline wears off, a moan unexpectedly leaving her lips as the setting sun beats down on her. It feels so _normal_ to be outside on a warm summer say like this, possibly reading or listening to music, catching up on her tan. And with her sight momentarily cut off, it's pretty easy to imagine. The heat kisses her skin, and again she whimpers—however this time thinking of only her baby.

_We're almost there, baby!_

It may be fear for her son or daughters' health that gives her the will to force her aching joints to tighten in anticipation, but it's the following scream that puts the plan into motion. It's not the meaning behind the scream that scares her, but the noise itself. Like scraping knives together or breaking glass, yet quick and cut off. The pitch to it is also off, much higher than the women's normal voice. Victoria's sounds as if she could be an adolescent. It makes Emily's blood curdle.

"Go! Emily, run!" Victoria screeches from the other end of the air vent. Nobody has ever had to tell Emily something twice, and today is no exception. She's up on her feet instantaneously, her feet taking a moment to find grip before taking off without second thought. The door swings shut by from the gust of wind that follows in her wake, and she peddles back to secure her work. Finding a nearby rock, she places it in front, buying her a few extra minutes.

The next thing she knows, she's flying through the forest, running as fast as any weakened pregnant women can. Everything hurts—each limb sore for so many different reasons—but she keeps pumping her legs. Now probably close to a quarter mile away, Emily turns to see where she's been being held the last couple of days. The building looks to be some kind of old factory, most likely only renovated on the inside, since from the outside it looks virtually uninhabited.

"Get back here!" Murphy yells, his voice echoing through the woods threateningly. She can just make out the muffled sound of Victoria's sobs. They must have eventually squeezed through the vents. "I'LL FIND YOU!"

Emily spins back around to start running again, but her shins hit something solid in the process. On instinct, her arms shoot out to catch herself, curse words be hissed between clenched lips as the pain begins. There will surely be bruises on her legs, but what hurts more are the sticks that imbed themselves into her bare hands. Tears gather in the corner of her eyes as she bites her lip to stop herself from calling out.

A stinging sensation grows up her arm, blood dripping off of her fingertips. Pulling the wood out of her hands, she tries to stand up, but something holds her back. Looking over, she sees that the log in which she fell over has rolled onto the flowy part of her shirt. It must be close to double her weight, because it will not budge as she fights against it. Gordon Murphy's voice rings closer, and she has no choice but to lay flat on the damp ground, curling up close to the decaying tree.

On account of her short and ragged breathing, she clamps a bloody hand over her mouth, the other clutched firmly over her belly. Still no movement on the baby's part.

Leaves crunch hostilely under Murphy's boots as he walks through the forest, Victoria sniveling loudly from beside him. Her hands seem to be cuffed again, however to each other this time, making walking over the already rocky ground nearly impossible. Watching through a small gap in the log, Emily sees her trip over her own feet twice, and once because of an oversized tree root.

"Emily!" His hands are cupped as he calls, looking around in the wilderness.

Her body stiffens as he pronounces her name, a trail of goose bumps appearing on her arms—although, the last part could very well be because of the sudden drop in temperature. It's like Gordon Murphy himself is sucking all that is good out of the world; drawing away the sun, turning the sky an ugly gray color, causing even the clouds to open up and cry. Drops of water begin raining down on Emily, dampening her dirty clothes.

"Let's make a little deal," Murphy says, still whipping his head around, his voice now barely above a normal speaking tone. She sees him draw Victoria close to him by the root of her hair. "You come out now, I promise not to hurt either of you. You'll go back to your room, and I'll be able to look over this little _mishap. _But if you decide to stay quiet, I will shoot the old lady here and now, and then hunt you down until I find whatever remains of your measly life."

_He's lying! _Emily immediately yells at herself. He has to be. There would be no point in keeping Victoria alive for _seven months_ if he were just going to kill her now. The threat still manages to panic her. _He's bluffing. He has to be._

"So, what's it going to be, Miss Thorne? The easy way or the hard way? Are you ready to take someone's life into your hands? Are you ready to be the reason that person's life has ended?" Murphy plunges his hand deep into the pocket of his trousers, resurfacing with a jet black handgun. Emily audibly gasps beneath her hand, Victoria's entire body freezing up at the same time. _No, No, NO! _

"Three,"

Both women stay motionless in their spots.

"Two,"

She thinks back to her earlier thoughts. _It's easy to hate the person who ruined your life. _It's even easier to ruin the life of someone you hate. Emily begins questioning everything she's ever known about the Grayson's. They took her father's life…but Victoria saved hers. Does that make them equal? As she thinks about it, though, she realizes that isn't her question at all. She asking herself whether she still really and truly hates Victoria.

"One,"

The following thing happens so quickly, Emily hardly has time to register or even answer herself. One second, Gordon Murphy's words are empty and meaningless. Threats that will never come true. And the next, he's holding up the gun to Victoria's head.

A year ago, this would have meant nothing to Emily. No, scratch that, this would have meant _everything _to her. Victoria Grayson's death was all she ever thought about—her life's mission. She's spent years preparing for this moment, waiting for the time to come where she would see the life leave her enemy's eyes. That was the end result of it all, wasn't it? The ultimate revenge. She should be thrilled. If the death is not at her hand, it's still the ending of her adversary's life. Her mission is about to be completed.

Something…unfamiliar wells up inside her.

Sorrow. Emily not only feels sorry for her, she feels _sadness. Sad_ that Victoria has a gun pressed against her temple. It's the intense hormones—she knows it has to be—but unexpectedly affection for the women appears in her emotions. The last few days had shed light to a whole new person. Someone considerate and caring. Someone who let Emily go in front of her, and stayed behind to fend off somebody a good hundred pounds stronger. Someone who had clearly gotten a bloody nose protecting her.

She doesn't want Victoria to die. She doesn't hate her. And she comes to this conclusion a moment too late.

The gun shot is much louder than anyone would have expected, the metal fragments spiraling through the air with more speed than light. The whole thing seems to go down in slow motion, though, like floating in Jell-O. There's no relevance. The actions are confusing at first to Emily. Even as the bullet hits its target straight in the center of the chest, her thoughts are too muddled to make logic of anything.

One bullet. One wound. And so much blood. Victoria doesn't even scream.

* * *

**Nolan**

Emily was only eighteen years old when he first met her. Stumbling out of Allenwood juvenile detention center, dark haired, orphaned, and owner of nothing but the ratty pair of converse sneakers on her feet. She had nowhere to go; nowhere she _could _go without being haunted by her fathers falsified past. She was completely lost, and extraordinarily angry.

Then and there, he explained everything to her. Absolutely _everything. _She's probably the most stubborn person Nolan's ever meet, and proving that her father was an innocent man was no easy task. So many people had spent years convincing her otherwise, that Emily had next to no faith any longer. Little by little, however, he could see her hostility dissolving, and the infinity box is what verified it all for her.

Nolan's actions were purely because he felt he owed David. All his success was because of her father, and it was his obligation to inform Emily that he didn't die a horrific man. He thought he was doing what was right. But what he created from it…was something far from his control. Trying to solve a greater good, he'd only created a bigger problem.

Revenge is dangerous game to play—and that's exactly what he'd given her. Vengeance was all she had, her whole life. Like the Chinese Proverb says; before you set out for revenge, be sure to dig two graves.

Did the Grayson's deserve it? Hell, yeah. But did she?

Emily may have been the one to dig her own grave, but he had given her the shovel to do so. He had been the spark that kindled the fire. If Nolan hadn't come to her all those years ago, then she could have had a chance at a normal life. She could have gone to college, not Revenge University. She could have made a life for herself—one where she wasn't constantly plotting destruction. She could have fallen in love with whomever she wanted, and not felt like she'd failed because of it.

Most importantly, she'd be safe.

If he had just kept his mouth shut, or better yet, avenged David Clarke's death himself, then this whole mess would never have happened. Emily would still be Amanda Clarke, and Amanda would still be Emily Thorne.

Looking out the floor-to-ceiling window of his company office building, he glares at the falling rain, each arm crossed angrily across his chest. His mood had significantly changed after Kate turned him down and he found out about _Adam_. Like the gentlemen he is, he still walked her to her car and then miserably left to come back to Nolcorp. He had a lot of work to catch up on.

Anything he'd hoped to get done was quickly forgotten once he began thinking of Emily. And then it started to rain, making everything ten times worse. The summer was looking to be very wet, although he'd stopped counting after the number ran off his fingers. The rain itself was almost symbolic, showing how the former year had been much better—and it had hardly even drizzled back then.

Last summer had been great. They practically had this Bonnie and Clyde thing going, ruining a different person's life every other week. It was _fun_ knowing that the recipient deserved it. Ignoring a few minor speed bumps in the plan, things had gone perfectly. Step by step, they were getting closer to the Grayson's end. Their plan was working. But then, personal lives had gotten in the way of everything. And the next thing Nolan knew, he was driving Emily home from the hospital with tear marks all down her cheeks. Not only had she fallen in love with the opponent, she'd gotten pregnant as well.

"_I need some time to think," _She'd said on the drive home. _"And I can't do that here. I'm leaving the Hamptons."_

That night, she packed up and headed north, putting the red sharpie away and all their schemes of revenge on the back burner.

Nolan wonders what's going to happen when they find her. If_ we find her. _He cringes at his mental correction. The baby is going to change her entire life, and she'll hardly have time to destroy the paternal family in the process—not that there is much _to_ destroy any longer. Victoria's dead, Charlotte's a recovering drug addict, and Daniel…well, he's a complete mess. They'd been able to take down three-fourths of the family. Maybe that would be enough.

Oh, who is he kidding? Conrad Grayson was the mastermind of it all, the most important element. Emily would want to take him down the most. Nolan hopes he can stop her. Certainly not because he's grown to like Conrad, but to stop Emily from hurting herself even more. _Before you set out for revenge, be sure to dig two graves_. She has something to live for now. And he'll do his best to stop Emily from lying down in the grave. The grave he'd helped her dig.

Without any humor, he laughs to himself, turning away from the window. "Oh, Emily." He quietly murmurs, sitting down at his desk. "How is it that you've gotten all the men in your life to feel guilty over your departure?"

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_Sorry, sorry, sorry! __I've been busy! _**

**_Thank you for all who reviewed!_**

**_I'll try to update soon!_**

**_Tell me what you thought of the chapter!_**

**_xoxox_**

**_secretlife1201_**

**_p.s. Demily reunion will come soon (maybe in two chapter!)_**


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